It's A Long Road
by itsafour
Summary: Chandler and Monica's story, starting on that fateful Thanksgiving Day in 1987.
1. Chapter 1

**_Author's note: Okay, first of all, I want to thank all the very sweet people who review my stories and I'm not able to PM haha Sophie, Laura, BN, Macie, 008, and all the guest reviewers haha you make me really happy._**

 ** _Well, about this thing here. Yeah, I'm starting a new series, and a pretty ambitious one HAHA the plan here is to tackle at least one random/important moment a year since the year Chandler and Monica met, so this isn't going to be a short one haha once again, I'm very excited, so maybe the updates won't take long._**

 ** _This first chapter is a little more angsty than what I plan for most of the story, but I swear it's the writers' fault for having them meet on those terms! haha I hope it's nice reading it anyway_**

* * *

 _Late 1987_

It wasn't like Monica had never dealt with insults before. She was actually pretty used to it. Kids always laughed at her in school; people on the streets stared; doctors made fun of her. Even her mother, the one who was supposed to love her the most, seemed to despise her. She had only one friend, her best friend, who seemed to genuinely like her, but having lived with such disdain and disrespect since early years made her wonder why Rachel was still around.

No one liked her. She was dumb, she was crazy, she was ugly and fat. _No one cares about girls like me._

Monica looked at the mirror; her eyes were puffy from too much crying. She hadn't been crying out of sadness though. She was mostly frustrated and angry; she felt ashamed too. _Who does he think he is? With that stupid hair and that stupid thanksgiving-hating attitude?_ And to think she believed him to be different, only to find out he was more of the same – a guy who was as dumb and shallow as any other, who looked at her and saw "fat girl" instead of "human being". She had even made him a tasteful dish – she had been worried about him not having options to eat. _You're such an idiot_ , Monica silently reprimanded her own reflection in the mirror as if she was taking out on herself the anger she was feeling towards that Chandler boy.

The family and the guests had a little snack later, sharing the space in the living room to small talk. She felt like crying the whole time, averting her eyes not only from him but from everybody. Rachel had asked her what was going on, and Monica promised to tell her everything the other day. For a moment she was afraid of turning the night into an unbearably uncomfortable event, but turns out being completely ignored by her mother counted as something good this time. Too engrossed in every little detail about Ross's life, Mrs. Geller hadn't even noticed how upset Monica was – she was very thankful for the fact that dinner had happened already, since not eating in such an important meal would definitely attract a lot of attention.

What made everything worse was the fact that she wanted him to notice she was upset, somehow figure out that she had overheard him, worry about hurting her feelings. He didn't even look at her though. That was the biggest reason for the painful sting inside her chest. He wouldn't even feel sorry for being rude. Rachel was about to leave, and Monica raised her eyebrows at her brother creating some lame excuse to follow her friend out. When she looked at Chandler again, she could swear he looked upset too – it clearly wasn't because of her, which perked her curiosity, but then she forced herself to shrug it off.

Turns out the boy would stay for the night – _great,_ Monica bitterly thought. She had locked herself in her room the minute she learned about that, not willing to ever see him again. After a couple of hours, she had a bathroom trip and went to the kitchen to get some water; the original plan would normally focus on getting a snack, but she wouldn't do that. Not this time, not anymore. Her heart almost jumped out of her chest when she noticed him there, in the dark living room. _Why is he still up?_

"Ross hasn't come back…" He said, out of the blue, startling her – _did he just read my mind of something?_ She didn't know why Ross had left earlier, her luck only allowed her to overhear the offensive part of their conversation, not the original plan from her brother. "Would you hang out with me?" Chandler solicited with the most embarrassed, cringed face in the world.

 _Does he want me to stay? Why?_ She couldn't understand his motives, but for sure she could tell he looked sad. He looked… lonely. For a second she thought maybe Ross as a friend was a little bit like Rachel – being there for you most of the times but disappearing in a minute when you happened to need her the most. _Well_ , Monica thought, _Rachel usually vanishes for boys, so I'm sure this guy doesn't have to deal with that._ She never knew what kind of friend her brother was.

"So?" Chandler's voice startled her again, her body visibly bouncing a little. He chuckled at that, and though she was expecting to hear that mean kind of chuckle, the sound leaving his mouth at the moment reverberated amusement, almost as if he was finding her reaction cute. _He doesn't think I'm cute though_ , she reminded herself. _Not at all. He didn't want to be stuck with his friend's fat sister. That's what I am to him – Ross's fat sister. He's just talking to me because he doesn't have any other option._

She felt her blood boil, her cheeks burn, and suddenly a rush of anger washed all over her body.

"Ass munch!" And at that she turned around, leaving a very confused teenage boy still sitting on the couch. He was definitely too shocked to barely move, wondering why the derogatory term had been directed at him.

Monica stomped off to her bedroom, shutting the door behind her with her rapid heartbeat drumming in her ears. She felt powerful for having called him that – _he thinks he's the only one who can call people things? Well, he's wrong!_

She calmed herself down a little and grabbed one of her many notebooks – getting a pen from her dresser, she started planning a schedule of activities and meals for the following day, which would be the first one of her new life.


	2. Chapter 2

_Late 1988_

He should have learned by now to spend this ghastly holiday at home, hidden from the sun and from everything and everybody that could hurt him. Somehow, Thanksgiving Day sounded a lot like Let's Hurt Chandler Day, with the now very recent updated title Let's Hurt Chandler Both Emotionally and Physically Day.

Never in his wildest nightmares could he ever have expected to witness someone sever his toe during this holiday. And it was so lame if you thought about it too; nightmares would actually consist of terrible, scary incidents, and when it came to sharp edges one would categorize as scary stuff like decapitation or something. Losing his pinky toe didn't seem to count as something as frightening – it was horrible and it really freaking hurt anyway.

Well, that's what he got from visiting anyone for a Thanksgiving dinner; serves him right. Why would he do that when he didn't even eat the traditional food? To make things worse, there was a pretty girl involved. Of course it did, you get this horrible holiday and throw a pretty girl in it: guarantee of Chandler's demise. He really should have known better than to expect anything good from either.

He'd been humiliated in the hospital too, completely able to feel the amused stares from the doctors – the whole evening would probably become some medical anecdote, something like _remember that boy with his missing toe on Thanksgiving, the one who almost had a very cold piece of carrot sown up the wound?_ Chandler grimaced at the memory.

He was now resting his foot on a pillow, lying his back down on the Gellers' couch. He was supposed to share Ross's old room with his friend, but the guy had been spending almost two hours talking on the phone to Carol, his current girlfriend. Chandler made a face by himself, _what's with Ross and love anyway?_ That guy was always in love! The year before he had been listening to his constant whining on Rachel, and now he had to hear all that gross conversation filled with endearment terms and ridiculous baby noises. He couldn't understand Ross's obsession with romance; Chandler wondered if getting married was his friend's biggest goal in life. He really didn't get that, especially because even though he was only 20, the mere thought of marriage sent shivers all over his body. Ross's parents had probably some sort of magical healthy relationship; Chandler still believed such a thing to be a myth forged to make lonely people like him feel really bad about their lives.

His flow of consciousness was interrupted by some noise in the living room, and he knew it was Monica. His mind was suddenly carried to a particular memory from the previous year, when he was in the same spot, too depressed because Ross had actually left him to chase after a crush, and the little sister had appeared out of nowhere. It was weird; he didn't remember much about her from before this particular moment. He had asked her to stay and she had out of the blue cursed him out. He should have seen the violent blow coming; it was clear she wasn't very fond of him since day one.

This time though, he thought it better not to call her attention, staying as silent as possible so that she could wander the room and not notice him, which didn't work as a plan. She had caught sight of him right after arriving on the ground floor, her now lithe body bouncing in surprise just like it did the year before when she had seen him there. She looked at him with a very unsettled, uncomfortable face. She had looked at him with as much discomfort the year before; it was much softer this time though. She looked absolutely terrified, and very, very regretful. For a moment, he felt bad for her. It seemed like whenever they shared the same air, something terrible or uncomfortable would unfold. Since she was at home, and the Thanksgiving curse had followed him throughout his whole life, he could only assume it was his fault, his presence bringing up all the bad vibes that were supposed to be stealthy so that people could live peacefully.

"How… um, h-how are you feeling?" He was the one startled by her voice this time around. He wanted to be mean, say something harsh, make her feel guilty, but looking at her pretty face unarmed him. _Did I really just think of her as pretty? Seriously, though?_

"I've been better…" He trailed off, and she squeezed her eyes in a painfully guilty expression "But I'll be fine, really. Did you come here to ask me that?"

"I-I went to Ross's room to check on you- you two! To check on you two. But he was talking on the phone, and made a weird hand movement towards the stairs. I figured you'd be here to give him some privacy."

"Well, I didn't have much choice, did I?" Chandler didn't mean to say that out loud, and he tried to come up with some sort of cover up, not really willing to let his friend's little sister of all people hear complaints about his friendship, but it was too late. He was too tired to think properly, so he just groaned, letting his head fall on the cushions.

Monica stood there for what felt like forever, not really knowing what to do or say. It seemed like the Geller siblings were both good at hurting him. As if she had just read his mind, she looked even guiltier than before.

"Um, Chandler?" He directed his gaze at her, intrigued by what would follow that nervously uttered vocative. "I'm really sorry that y-your Thanksgiving Day ended so badly."

Chandler paused his stare, looking at her directly into her eyes. He saw both regret and hurt, fighting each other for space inside those blue colored spots. He was the one who got hurt though, why would she feel hurt at all? For a second he felt bad about it, not really knowing where that hurt from her gaze had come from, but being sure it was real. The following second, he toyed with the idea of telling her that having terrible Thanksgivings was a long tradition in his life. Maybe make her laugh with his tragicomic storytelling of his first real bad Thanksgiving, the whole divorcing-parents-slash-vomiting narrative included. He thought of inviting her to stay a little, and maybe guilt-trip her into staying by reminding her that his pleading invitation had been answered with an insult the year before. _You own me a hangout_ , he would say, and she would laugh and sit beside him and they would talk for a little while, then she would run her slender fingers over his thigh and they would make out a little. Oh yeah, that would be nice. And after that he would be brutally murdered by Ross Geller; special assistance to the killing from Jack Geller. No matter what the girl in sight had done to him; his mind was never out of the gutter when it came to pretty girls. It seemed like he remained speechless for too long because when he came back to his senses, Monica's guilty expression had disappeared, making room to a very confused one.

"Uh… It's okay, really." They stared at each other again after his belated answer. "You should probably go to bed by now."

"Right! I should." He could tell she was biting the insides of her mouth. "Good night, Chandler."

"Good night, Monica", and he granted her with his real smile for the first time that day.

While going upstairs, Monica bumped into her brother, who was going downstairs unbelievably fast in search of his best friend.

"Oh, man, I'm so sorry! Carol had so many funny things to tell me from her Thanksgiving dinner, I got so caught up in the conversation I didn't notice so much time had passed."

Once more, Chandler felt like being bitter and leaving harsh words out of his mouth, but his friend's regretful face looked an awful lot similar to his sister's. He discovered that night that such an expression was capable of turning him into mush.

"It's okay, Ross. Just help me upstairs."


	3. Chapter 3

**_Author's note: Wow, this is the longest thing I've ever written HAHA I'm gonna post it now, but there's a serious risk of typos around because my eyes are tired of revising this too much askdfgfd I hope it's enjoyable overall though._**

* * *

 _Early 1989_

Life was great for Monica. She was a Culinary Arts student, living her dream of becoming a chef in the most cosmopolitan city in the world – okay, she slept in a room in her nana's apartment, yes, but still, she was in the big city! Despite being the same shy, awkward girl she had always been, she'd noticed that creating a façade, an image of a strong independent woman worked wonders when it came to how people approached her. And, of course, being thin helped a lot. She still felt like a fat girl inside, expecting people to laugh at her or look at her disdainfully or be rude for no reason, but it was obvious how different people (especially boys) acted around her now.

Rachel was no longer around though. Monica couldn't understand what had happened; soon after losing all the extra weight, Rachel had been more and more distant, up until the point of not being around at all anymore. Try as she might, Monica couldn't let that go. She felt there was a clear connection between her current appearance and Rachel vanishing, and it really, really hurt. However, Monica wasn't the kind of girl to beg for anyone's love – she had never done that for her family; she would never do that for a friend who could so easily ditch her.

As much as she tried to focus on the prospect of having a successful career and on the fact that she was studying what she wanted (and being a terrific student!), she still felt lonely. Monica had been excited about meeting guys until noticing she was too romantic for random hookups, which seemed to be everything men wanted. Whenever the guy made it too obvious that he just wanted sex, she dumped him immediately – even though she also wanted sex; oh, god, she really did. It was much better not having sex than being so blatantly used, but that also meant she had no one to sleep with. To top that off, she had no friend. She just didn't know how to make friends. Her relationship with Rachel had happened very naturally, when they were little kids; trying to meet new people seemed like a lot of work, and she was always afraid of driving people away with her crazy – she'd noticed her obsessive cleanliness and controlling behavior had somehow been enhanced after she'd lost weight. She was pretty, sure, but also more aware of the fact that she was difficult to live with.

So yeah, she felt lonely, very, very lonely. That was the reason why, even though she hadn't had the best relationship with her brother throughout their growing up together, she was absolutely ecstatic by his invitation to hang out with him and Carol. She hadn't met Carol yet, which was another reason for her excitement. She arrived on the street he had told her to meet him, and everything pointed in the direction of a pretty good night until she saw _him_. Chandler Bing. She was walking towards the trio and when she caught a glimpse of him she almost did a u-turn and left before even greeting them. Obviously (and unfortunately) she couldn't do that.

They were into an occurring conversation, so as she got closer to them, they hardly noticed her. She took that as her cue and urged Ross to a little private talk before even saying good evening, giving out her most shining smile so that the other two wouldn't find it too weird.

"Ross, what are you doing?" She hissed at her big brother as soon as their faces were out of sight.

"What?" He looked genuinely confused, which annoyed Monica even more.

"You invite me to dinner and only when I show up I find out he's here too?"

"Who are you talking about? Chandler? What's the problem with Chandler being with us?"

"A little heads up would've been nice, you know, being able to choose coming or not." She crossed her arms over her chest, extremely irritated by her night being ruined right from the beginning. Monica weighted her options; she would either have to sit through dinner with that shallow, stupid guy, or get back to her nana's place and spend one more lonely night.

"Monica, I don't get it. I checked with him before inviting you-"

"You checked with him and not with me?" Monica was so pissed by that little piece of information she didn't even want to hear the rest.

"Yes, I did! You were the one who cut off his toe, so if anyone would have a problem with us haging out together, I figured it would be him." Ross's face showed a lot of confusion. Everything he said did make sense after all. "Why do you hate him so much anyway? Sure, he's a little weird, but he's never done anything to you."

Except he did, but it was supposed to be behind her back. And it was also something that very few people would understand. It's not that she compared being called fat with cutting his toe off – of course what she had done to him had been terrible and she was sorry, and she would probably regret that for the rest of her life. The thing is that being reduced to something undesirable because of her appearance made her defensive walls so high she thought she was going to die alone inside her fort. It wasn't easy knowing that someone didn't care for you right from the beginning because of how you looked; or even worse, that he only started caring the moment he had deemed you as "pretty". She didn't want to be near people who would judge her like this. She could never explain such a thing to Ross though, especially because she couldn't even say she had overheard them two years earlier. The whole thing was just too humiliating, and she was sure Ross would never comprehend what she felt, not in a million years.

Now it wasn't only about avoiding staying home by herself, but also about saving face. Ugh, how she wished she didn't care about people's opinions of her. Maybe she could try another perspective…

"I'm sure he's said he's okay to be polite. He probably doesn't like me…"

"What? No! It's not like this at all! I checked with him before. Monica, please. He's my best friend, Carol's my girlfriend and you're my little sister. You three hanging out and getting along would mean the world to me."

She couldn't deny she was taken aback by his sudden confession. They had fought so much all over the years, she'd just thought he hated her as much as she used to hate him. Maybe not. Huh.

Okay, to sum up, it was avoiding loneliness plus saving face plus cute pleading big brother. She didn't have much of a choice now.

"Alright. I'll do it."

Ross beamed at his little sister, hugging her softly before tugging her by her hand and leading her to the other two – who by that point looked fairly worried.

"Okay, let's get wasted!" Ross's lame enthusiasm managed to make her smile a little, while she braced herself for what she expected to be a terrible night.

* * *

The four of them had wandered some very famous and crowded bars until they'd settled for what everybody thought was the best one. Not too big, not too crowded, not too noisy, with enough tables for them to sit and a nice ambient music playing in the background. They'd chosen to share a table instead of sitting on stools, and spent a good three hours just drinking and talking. Monica had actually been having a lot of fun. Carol was the sweetest girl in the world – Monica had even wondered if they could become friends eventually, a friendship that could be born on its own terms beyond the whole "you date my brother" thing. Also, she'd come to realize that not living with Ross had made their relationship much better too. She couldn't remember having appreciated her brother's presence as much as she had those past three hours. She had been interested in a lot of the things he'd said, she'd found his adoration towards his girlfriend cute, she'd even laughed at some of his jokes. Speaking of which, she had to admit that albeit extremely cheesy, Chandler's jokes turned out to be funny too – she didn't want to give him _that much power_ , so she bit the insides of her mouth to avoid laughing too openly, but still allowed herself the eventual giggle. Even so, Chandler was the one she'd had the least contact throughout the previous hours.

She was really enjoying herself, wondering if she would be out all night, maybe coming back home around 6 o' clock – she chuckled by herself, picturing her grandma's surprised face after noticing her granddaughter was an adult who stayed in bars all night long. She felt like a grownup. The ice cold water was brutally poured all over her when her brother decided it was time to go, obviously in the mood of fooling around with his girlfriend. She confirmed her suspicion when she looked at Chandler, the roommate in sight, making the most disgusted face, as if he had to endure his roomie having sex in their shared dorm room way too often before. The fact he'd just told Ross to go ahead and leave, claiming he would stay out to drink a little more was the final confirmation she needed. At that moment, she felt like cursing her brother out. He'd practically begged her to come along, and now he was going to leave her with _him_ , of all people? Especially when she'd made it clear earlier that she'd almost given up the night because of his presence?

They were both too in love to notice anything, stumbling out of their seats while kissing in public, placing some cash on the table – enough money to pay for all four of them, which only made it clearer that they weren't thinking properly.

She glanced at Chandler, who looked as upset as her. Monica thought about leaving, but there were still two almost full bottles of beer on the table, so she'd decided, _eh, what the hell, I'm gonna drink some more_. Chandler hadn't said anything, but when he grabbed one of the bottles and led it to his lips the same way she did, it looked like a coordinated choreography.

* * *

They were inside a bar, with a roof over their heads and everything, but both felt as if it was raining on them. Who would've expected that such a great night would be interrupted by two people being too in love? Monica almost snorted out loud – it was ridiculous, yet she could feel that familiar bitterness flooding her brain and getting out through every pore. Chandler who was sitting across from her seemed to notice her fuming, and decided to say something.

"Y'know… you don't have to be here with me." He flatly stated while taking another sip from what appeared to be his 3758th beer that night. As if by hearing his own voice, he'd noticed something wrong with the previous statement, which made him open his mouth again "I mean, it's not that I'm claiming this place as mine or something. Actually, I can go, if you want to stay and drink more… Do you want me to?"

In all honesty she wasn't able to answer that. "No need to…" He eyed her carefully, as if he was scared of saying the wrong thing. He didn't even get to that part as she blurted her thoughts out unexpectedly. "You know what? I love my brother, I really do. And I appreciate the fact that he's in love. I find them cute, I swear to god. It's just that… I'm lonely, and I don't even remember the last time I could hang out with a friend, and we were all having so much fun... I was even hoping to be here until dawn." She stopped her talking to take a deep breath, then laughed in the most rancorous way possible. "I just wish leaving now wouldn't mean me being alone for the rest of the night." She sighed. "I just wish I could have a boyfriend. Or just a friend. Maybe both. Ugh." One hand wiped her forehead, while the other one brought the rest of the beer to her lips again.

Chandler looked extremely uncomfortable. _Oh great. First I'm the fat sister. Then I'm the girl who severs his limb. Now I'm the crazy woman who's jealous of her brother. I wonder what's next._

When he never replied to her rant, she decided to wrap it up by stating what she believed to be the obvious. "You probably think I'm a terrible person. Hey, waiter!"

As she ordered another beer (he asked for another one too before the waiter left), he scanned her curiously. When she looked back at him, their eyes locked and she couldn't even take a slight guess about what he was thinking at the moment.

"You're not the only terrible person here."

"What?"

"Well, to be quite honest, I'm very jealous of Ross too."

"I'm not jealous!" At that he raised his eyebrow, which was more than enough to shut her up.

"You know, I'm a simple guy. I'm not like Ross. I don't want to get married tomorrow. But it sure would be nice having someone to sleep with." It looked like he couldn't believe he had said that out loud, his terrified face serving as evidence. When their new beers arrived, he took a bottle in his hands much too quickly so that he would have something, anything, covering up his face.

Monica felt bad for sharing her feelings about her brother's situation with his best friend, so she realized that maybe Chandler had felt the same about sharing his jealousy with the little sister. The fact that they were both too depressed to care about these rules and social conventions made her smile a little. She was obviously starting to warm up to Chandler. The memory from their previous encounters flashed across her eyes though.

"I should get going. I mean, you don't even like me, there's no reason why you should listen…"

"Whoaaaa! Wait, what?" His raised hand only magnified the absolutely shocked look on his face.

"What, what?"

"I don't like you?"

"I mean, yeah…" She laughed at the obviousness of her previous statement "I mean, remember how things ended last year…"

"Yeah, I know, but that was an accident. It's not like you planned any of it."

Her face flushed in embarrassment. "Right."

"Hey, look, I don't have anything against you, okay?" He looked at her firmly while saying that "If anything, I thought _you_ had something against me. I mean, after what you did to my pinky toe, I figured you weren't my biggest fan, know what I mean?"

She giggled, the fact that he was able to joke about the incident beyond her.

"But, hey… Ross told me about your major. So you're actually going to be a chef?"

 _Is he trying to make small talk?_ Apparently, yes. _Oh well, why not._ "Oh, yeah! I'm a Culinary Arts student. It's really fun!"

* * *

They couldn't tell how long had passed since the happy couple had left, but for one, they hadn't drunk that much more because, two, the conversation had actually gotten interesting.

Monica had the most appalled expression on while she heard him narrate all the very eventful stories from his childhood (with an exceptionally detailed description of his parents' personalities and behavior). Did he really have a father who starred a drag queen show? It was unbelievable. When she recounted her own stories, she was able to tell the bad stuff in a somehow comedic perspective too. She had never been one to laugh at her own particular tragedies, but talking to this guy, especially after hearing his recollections of his own dreadful memories, had made her conclude she could share her pains without bumming him out. It had worked very well too; she made him listen to her and laugh at the right moments instead of making him uncomfortable or uninterested.

They were now two people in their early twenties sharing their frustration when it came to the L-word. She didn't share much about her own experiences, but was baffled to hear him openly discuss his ridiculous love life, describing everything that went wrong with two very distinct yet mixed potions of bitterness and comedy. It seemed like she wasn't the only one with problems in that area.

He had just finished a story about that one girl who he believed had left after seeing him on a blind date and Monica couldn't take that ridiculous amount of public self-deprecation anymore.

"Oh, come on! It's not like you're horrible to look at! I'm sure she had a good reason to leave before saying hi."

"Oh yeah, the reason is staring at you right now, my friend. And it's easy for you to say!"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're so ho-" He was definitely goggling at his own bad choice of word until he decided to abysmally amend things "you're so hostile. To the, um, very existence of ugliness… uh, by existing in such a pretty exterior."

She chuckled "That didn't make any sense."

"I meant you're pretty." He leaned into the table, as if he was telling her a big secret.

"I know."

Yes, she knew he was about to call her "hot", and even though this was not the sweetest adjective in the world, she couldn't help blushing furiously. Monica still had a long way getting used to the fact that people found her desirable now; her brain still seemed tangled from all the violence directed at her during her teenage years.

"Anyway, even though apparently I'm hostile to the very existence of ugliness by existing in such a pretty exterior, I don't think you're horrible to look at. I mean, I wouldn't even be here talking to you, right, since I'm hostile-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I get it." He rolled his eyes, then huffed. "But you're talking to your brother's friend, it's not like we're on a date."

She laughed again. "I know, but seriously, you're fine. I'm sure it's more about your attitude."

"What about my attitude?"

Somehow he seemed to take more offense on being called out on his attitude than on his appearance.

"You come off needy, as if you're just looking for sex. Trust me, as a woman, I guarantee that nothing drives a girl away like a guy who only wants sex."

"What am I supposed to do then? Lie? Pretend I'm in love?"

"What about having a relationship?"

"No-no-no-no, no way! You've heard my stories! I know what a relationship looks like. I want nothing like that."

"Okay then, fine. Just… go out with girls who want the same things that you do."

"Where do I find girls who only want to have sex then?"

"I don't know! Ugh, guys are so gross!" Even though her words sounded harsh, her laughing made everything look friendly – a little too friendly, actually.

That's when she realized she had been talking to this guy alone for hours now, and by the light coming out door, it seemed like a good moment for them to leave. When he noticed her looking outside, he turned around to see what it was that had caught her attention, turning his head back to her with the goofiest grin "What do you say we check out and watch the sunrise?"

That actually sounded like a great idea. "Okay!"

* * *

They had taken a walk to Central Park, settling for sitting down on the grass and watching the colors changing in the sky. It was really beautiful. Monica still couldn't believe she was living in the big city. She gazed at the guy sitting beside her; he glanced back at her with a big smile and very sweet, tired eyes. She left his gaze to direct her focus on the sky.

* * *

She didn't ask him to, but he walked her back to her apartment. The fact that he was his brother's best friend allowed her to believe he wasn't a psycho waiting for the opportunity to murder her. When they got to her building, he noticed there was a bar right there.

"Wow, that's great. You don't need to go very far for a beer, then."

"No, I don't." She considered telling him that she had never been to that bar for being too embarrassed to show up alone and too scared of getting scolded by her grandmother, but decided such information wasn't anywhere near cool. She didn't want to sound like such a loser, so she kept those things to herself.

His eyes were shining, visibly happy despite the all-nighter, and for a second she felt she was meeting Chandler for the first time.

"Well, I think it's safe for me to get to my room with no risk of finding my roommate having sex."

She didn't hide her disgusted face. "Oh my god, ew! Your roommate is my brother. I don't want to hear that."

"Well, I don't want to hear certain noises he makes either, and yet I do more often than not. It's only fair that I share my burden."

Monica playfully slapped his arm, while giving him her totally unarmed smile for the first time. They'd said their goodbyes and parted ways, and while going upstairs to her grandma's apartment, she thought _indeed life's pretty great for Monica; I have a friend now_.


	4. Chapter 4

**_Author's note: Hey there! I just want to thank all the reviewers :) whenever you guys leave reviews I feel very encouraged to keep going, so thank you, thank yooou, from the bottom of my heart._**

* * *

 _Mid 1990_

Chandler had never been the most popular guy in the world. In fact, he didn't have many friends before Ross – okay, he never had a friend before Ross. However, Chandler had, at the moment, a group of friends.

Occupying the best friend position was Ross, the loser Chandler had affectionately held close to his heart since the first time they met in college. Following the string of close acquaintances was Carol, the best friend's girlfriend. If Chandler were to be honest, he'd never expected hanging out with her would be so fun – he had been too jealous in the first few months of their relationship to give her a chance (jealous of Ross's active sex life, Chandler would claim; what nobody knew was that he felt like that girl was stealing his only friend from him). To close up the tight group, there was Monica Geller. That girl he had met three years earlier, but couldn't really remember how that went. The girl who had severed his pinky toe the year after that, which, of course, not only he remembered vividly, but had also become a thing in their dorms – kids started calling him Sir Limps-A-Lot, which had made him lose sleep up until that point when he'd had maxed out embarrassment, not even caring about anything anymore.

Actually, considering Ross and Carol were pretty much glued together any time they could, Monica was the person he'd gotten to hang out with the most. They'd hit it off the year before, during a very depressing drinking spree that turned out to be one of the best nights of his life – which was something, since there was no sex involved (not that there was sex involved in any part of his life; another thing nobody knew). Talking to her that night had made him realize how much both of them had in common, although Monica would kill anyone who dared suggest that. They had both been neglected as children (Monica tried to hide her scars, but he could see them clearly). They both had serious self-esteem issues (Monica tried to pretend she didn't care about anyone's opinion, but it was almost humorous the way she undoubtedly tried really hard to please everyone). They both were cynical, pessimist people with an undying need for love (he wanted love, yeah, not only sex, which was the third thing about him that nobody could ever know – maybe he himself didn't know that at that point). So yeah, even though she spent most of their time together picking on his flaws and trying her hardest to fix his bad habits – especially when it came to smoking (she had even thrown his pack of cigarettes away once without talking to him about it) –, hanging out with Monica was pretty great.

Chandler had skipped the last thirty minutes of a particularly boring lecture to have a private meeting with his secret vice. Although the urge of smoking usually came after a meal, he wasn't in the mood of dealing with three people scolding him because of his addiction, so he'd decided to take that moment to indulge. It was almost like a silent pact by then: the four of them would meet every day at the same spot on campus and have lunch together. He was lost in thought when he saw Monica walking towards that specific spot, too engrossed in some book to notice he was already there. He saw that as an opportunity to put out his cigarette before she saw him, and opened a yellow smile when she finally caught his presence in her vision.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?" was the first thing that left her mouth before she even got to greet him.

"Hey, good morning to you too!" Chandler teased, which earned him a good rolling of eyes. Her nose moved in its own accord, and Chandler braced himself for what was coming.

"Did you smoke?" Monica didn't waste a minute before crossing her arms in front of her chest, looking like a very upset mother who had just caught her son doing something wrong.

"Okay, fine! I did! But I'm under a lot of stress, alright, you gotta let that one by."

"Chandler, the semester has just started."

"Yes, exactly, and I'm terrified by what I can't predict."

Rolling her eyes at his antics was an intrinsic part of their relationship, so Chandler just moved on with the conversation.

"Aren't you supposed to be in class right now too?"

"It ended early so that we could prepare for this big assignment for next class."

"Sweet Lord, and you're not smoking why?"

"Because I'm not stupid like certain people." It was his rolling of eyes this time. "I can't wait to get home and start working on it, actually."

"Wow, you and Ross really are siblings."

"Monica?" A seemingly dorky blonde girl had appeared out of nowhere, and Chandler watched her and Monica's interaction curiously. "Hi! Um, I was thinking that maybe we could start working on that assignment at lunch, what do you say?"

"I would love that!" Chandler just stood there, astonished to observe his friend's excitement over a college obligation. "But we're having lunch right now." She moved her hand towards herself and Chandler, which made the girl look at them with wide eyes.

"Oh, my god, I'm so sorry, I didn't know you were meeting your boyfriend right now. Are you free tonight though?"

Monica had eyes and mouth wide open, too shocked by her classmate's assumption to say anything. Chandler found that absolutely amusing and decided to take it up a notch, putting his arms around her shoulders protectively, grinning mischievously.

"Yes, that's right." Monica's rolling of eyes this time made him assume she was thinking _oh here comes that voice again_ , that one voice he used to mimic seductive old Hollywood male stars. "At lunch, she's all mine."

"I'm meeting you tonight, okay?" Monica informed the girl of what she had just decided by herself. "You can come to where I live. I'll give you a call to let you know the address."

"Okay." The girl had a mixture of admiration for Monica and awkwardness from that peculiar encounter on her face before she left. "See you later then."

"Bye!" Monica waved her off then turned her head to look at Chandler, without really taking his arms off her shoulders, with that look he already knew very well and was obviously expecting. "You're ridiculous."

"What? It's nice knowing people think I might have a girlfriend like you even though you're totally out of my league."

There was something weird in her eyes, and she seemed to be ready to say something about that, but whatever she had to say never left her lips because Carol and Ross chose that moment to show up.

"Hey guys! Where are we eating today?"

* * *

While they were eating their food, Chandler couldn't help thinking about their previous moment with that dorky girl. Despite jokingly, it felt really good saying that Monica was all his (that was the fourth thing nobody knew about him; see, Monica's great. She's smart, she's funny, she's the hottest girl he ever got to meet, so sometimes when it was late at night and he was dozing off while listening to music on headphones to block the noise from his roomie's happiness, he allowed himself to think _what if?_ as he wondered what would be like to have a girl like Monica as a girlfriend. Being jealous of Ross, still being a virgin and actually wanting love were nothing like the fourth secret he would always keep shut inside his brain). When he looked at her, she was excitedly talking to the other three. She looked utterly happy, and she was clearly after his own heart. They both had been pretty lonely people – they had even bonded over loneliness that night the year before – so he could totally understand the twinkle in her eyes and her big smile while recollecting unimportant aspects of her morning classes with a group of real friends. Chandler cracked one joke or two, sometimes earning a judgmental look from Ross and an awkward giggle from Carol, other times getting a chuckle out of them, but Monica always laughed – even if she hit him in the arm in the process, or bit the insides of her mouth with eyes closed, or whined his name, dragging out all the A's (the fifth secret was one Chandler hadn't admitted to himself yet, but making her laugh had become his biggest motivation for being funny).

* * *

 _Oh, here it comes_ , the urge to smoke presented itself after a satisfying meal. Chandler was getting used to ignoring that in specific moments, such as the one he was now, leaving his friends after lunch to face another block of very boring lectures. As usual, Ross and Carol left together heading for their building, and Chandler walked a little around campus with Monica before they too headed for their classes.

He so bad wanted to bring up the boyfriend thing again. Maybe make up some joke about it that would tell her that dating her would be great. He wasn't in love; he just enjoyed the idea of dating a girl who was both unbelievably hot and fun to be with. Maybe that would make the whole definition of being in a relationship shift from terrible to terrific for him. He suddenly got more and more nervous by himself, wanting to smoke so desperately it was as if everybody on campus passing by them were giant talking cigarettes. Why was he so nervous anyway? _It would be only a joke – and maybe more, but only if she wanted to give it a try. Well, she would never give it a try. Of course she would, she didn't say anything about not being my girlfriend to that girl. Yeah, maybe, but she looked obviously terrified about the very mental image of a relationship with me. Maybe she's just afraid of ruining a friendship. Yeah, right, that was what she was thinking. Do you have to be so sarcastic all the time? Oh, now you're complaining about sarcasm?_

His internal monologue (dialogue) was interrupted by Monica's voice.

"Oh, my god, Chandler, if you want to smoke so bad, just go ahead." Her reprimanding look was sharp and direct (and so very hot too, but, hey, finding her scolding hot was the sixth secret). Well, he wouldn't waste such an opportunity; he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and lit one right there.

Monica looked distressed, and somehow she seemed to believe his lame excuses (or maybe not. Maybe it was just easier pretending to believe the reason he looked so desperate to smoke resided in college duties and not at their proximity and the open can of worms from their earlier interaction with a random girl who thought they were a couple. Chandler would never know for sure).

"Well, I gotta go to class. See you later."

"Bye-bye", Chandler waved at her, exhaling deeply and deciding he was thinking crazy. That was Monica, his close friend, and he had almost turned things awkward because of an impulse based on horniness (just horniness, that's what he would tell himself, mustering all his strength to push back those thoughts to the bottom of his brain, avoiding the possibility of dwelling on them since it wasn't worth it. The fact that those thoughts would never vanish for good was his last secret).

Chandler was devoted to chain smoking; he lit another cigarette before entering the building, taking a deep drag and slowly letting the smoke out (hopefully all the crazy doubts and fears would leave his body in that exhalation too). Maybe skipping the first thirthy minutes of the next class would be a good idea.


	5. Chapter 5

_Early 1991_

Ross was over the moon and back when he begged Monica to meet him, Carol and Chandler in the evening at their favorite bar, that one they had chosen to spend the night two years earlier. Monica had that place in a very special compartment of her heart – despite initially believing that night would be a disaster, she had made her first friends in the big city there. They had met in the same space several times since then, but usually only when something big was coming up – like beginnings and ends of a semester, or when they wanted to do something different than having lunch every day or hanging out in the boys' shared dorm room.

Monica and Chandler were the first ones to arrive. They went together, unsuccessfully playing a game of "what's Ross's big news?" on their way. Not much later, Ross and Carol got there too, both supporting huge smiles and tangible happiness. It was really cute, she had to admit it.

After a couple of beers and random conversations about her upcoming graduation from her two-year program that had prepared her to actually work as a chef, Chandler's upcoming graduation from a major he obviously still wasn't sure had been the right one, Carol's very precise graduation and career choice, and Ross's entrance in a doctorate program, the couple took a deep breath and Monica braced herself for the big news. In the back of her mind, she had already figured out what was it they would announce, but deep down she didn't want to believe it to be true.

They looked at each other and practically shouted "We're engaged!" together, at the same time, to their very surprised friends' faces.

Monica and Chandler seemed to need some time to recover from the shock before being able to properly congratulate the couple, hugging them and ordering more alcohol so that they could make a toast for the betrothed pair.

An hour or so went by after that, and happiness and joy seemed to be the dominant moods at their table. Then, Ross suggested it was time to get going, to which Monica replied "I wanna drink more, so I'm staying" with an unperceived very forced tone that matched Chandler's when he added "me too". They said goodbyes and left through the door, and as if there had been some very well-rehearsed play going on for the last couple of hours, Monica and Chandler's expressions fell automatically when the couple was out of sight.

"Can you believe that?" Chandler was the first one to break the continuing silence.

"I know." Monica sighed "I suggest we drink our bodies' weight by ourselves."

"Yes, please!"

"Do you really want to be here though?" When he didn't follow her train of thought, she added more to her tacit suggestion. "My grandmother's travelling, so my apartment's empty."

The Freudian slip was clearly overlooked by Chandler, but she felt a little shocked when she noticed she had just called her grandma's apartment her apartment. It did feel like home after living there for two years, especially when her nana had been spending so much of the past months travelling around. Monica figured the old woman wanted to finally enjoy herself, and she was all for it. Being on her own so much helped her feel more and more like a grownup.

"So?" She urged Chandler when he didn't respond right away.

"Yes! I think it's a great idea."

* * *

They had dropped by at the bar at her building, whose owner was a very sweet man called Chris, with the only intention of buying alcohol. The place was so great though they had ended up spending a little while there, shooting some pool while having a drink or two. When they had gotten sick of playing, they'd ordered a good amount of bottles of beers to go before heading upstairs.

The apartment was dimly lit – Monica had only turned one of the lamps on –, and the pair of friends were sitting on the couch, wasted and depressed, resting their feet on the coffee table, empty bottles neatly lined up beside the furniture (Chandler had voiced out his wonderment after witnessing Monica's capability of keeping things clean even when she was hammered).

She had felt really bad for feeling bad in the first place on such a special occasion. It was a happy moment after all, her brother was getting married. However, scenes of her mother's contemptuous tone being used towards her played like a horror movie behind her eyes. The reason why she had invited Chandler over had been mostly to avoid being lonely in that state of mind, and hopefully talk about it in a private place with no risk of someone overhearing them and taking them for two very fake people. _Them_ , not just _her_ , that's right. Monica knew Chandler well enough to be certain he wasn't in a happy place with that announcement either. Somehow, the topic seemed to be forgotten, as if both of them were afraid of letting their fears and worries out in a way that could lead to misunderstanding.

"I can't wait to see my mother's reaction." When she wanted to, her statements would drip with heavy sarcasm – Chandler had always been a fan of those moments. Her utterance had come from out of nowhere, no conversation they were having had led to this particular sentence, but, as usual, Chandler knew what she was talking about immediately with a few words. Monica had always been a fan of those moments.

"Oh yeah. I distinctively remember Mrs. Geller talking to Ross on those two Thanksgivings; if we were in a cartoon, I would've been able to see the little hearts floating around her head." Monica snorted at the picture. "It was really weird seeing her ask him all those questions about every little detail of his life. I mean, my mom never asked anything about my feelings and personal life – well, except for my sex life, which was pretty much nonexistent when I was growing up."

"Really? I always expect guys to start having sex at very young age."

"Well, I did too, but turns out witnessing too many orgies and sexual games in my own household didn't help me much when it came to the ladies."

"Chandler, are we terrible friends?"

"What? No, of course not! We swallowed our feelings to be supportive and celebrate with them! If anything, I think we're great friends."

Chandler had always been too self-indulgent to be considered a reasonable person, but Monica could see his point. They had both tried their hardest not to ruin their friends' night. It wasn't like she could control her feelings – neither could he.

"I feel like I'm always behind Ross. And I know he's older, it's supposed to be like that, but it just feels so terrible working your ass off to be recognized by your parents and everything be old news because 'remember when Ross did that before'." She comically mimicked what would be her parents' talking in the last line, which made Chandler chuckle. "None of my grades are impressive because he's always the best student ever. None of my achievements are even worth mentioning because Ross is just so great. He's still in his twenties and he's getting married! I don't even have a boyfriend! And my mother's always very willing to bring that up whenever she talks to me." Her eyeballs were suddenly open wide, almost popping out of her skull. "Oh, my god, what if Carol is pregnant and that's why they're getting married? What if Ross has a baby in nine months? Oh, my god, Chandler, my mom would never let me hear the end of it." She fisted his shirt in despair and he himself got desperate trying to come up with something to calm her down.

"Monica, relax. Carol's not pregnant. By the amount of condoms in our trash can, I assume they're being careful of that."

Monica didn't hide her disgust at all. "Ewwwww! Chandler!" He laughed at her exasperated reaction, running his fingers affectionately through her hair. A question then came up on her mind. "Why are you so depressed anyway? People say married sex is boring."

Chandler looked at her defiantly. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

Monica blushed a little. "Well, no. But I'm just like Ross, you know, I'm crazy about marriage. I guess my opinion doesn't count." She saw him shrug but her question remained unanswered. "Seriously, what is it? There isn't much for you to be upset about. I mean, it's not like your parents favor Ross. You know, the perks of being an only son."

"Well, in fact, they have already favored my imaginary friend."

Monica knew he was trying his best to avoid letting his feelings out, as usual. It amazed her how a person could talk so much all the time, telling the most ridiculous jokes with no shame, while never really communicating his feelings. In that moment, in the dim light of her (grandma's) apartment, late at night, still intoxicated with the alcohol, she secretly hoped she could open this young man up and see what he really felt. She was ready to insist a little more when he decided to start talking.

"It's just… I guess being loved must feel really nice. I don't really know what that is like." Monica held her breath, not expecting him to be so blunt. "Besides, we're all graduating and up until now college was what made us hang out every day. I mean, Ross and I would have to part ways pretty soon any way; we can't be living in the dorm forever. Well, I can't, since your brother is a dork and decided to continue an academic career." Chandler dramatically grimaced at that, then softened his expression, then looked just utterly sad. The crease between his eyebrows looked very hard because the frown he was giving out at the moment was really intense. "I don't even know what to do with my life. I don't know if I did the right thing by choosing my major. I don't know where to go when it's officially time to leave the dorm."

"Chandler…" Her hands squeezed his thighs in an attempt to comfort him.

"And with Ross and Carol getting married, I'm sure they'll be together all the time, they're going to live together. But I don't know if such new life will have room for an annoying friend like me. And there's you too." He trailed off, his pained expression worrying her by the minute.

"What about me?"

Up until that moment, Chandler had been talking to no one, staring at the air and letting his feelings out without really making eye contact with Monica. That moment though, he finally turned his head to face her.

"With college over for both of us, I don't see why we would hang out anymore."

"Of course we're still going to hang out! Chandler, you're like…" That seemed a lot easier as a private thought than as something said out loud. "You're like my best friend. So what if we're not in college anymore? I'll make time to see you; we'll drink some beer every now and then, watch a movie or something." As afraid as she was of having her little emotional speech be made fun of by Chandler, she couldn't stop herself anymore. "I don't want to lose you."

She'd honestly expected him to burst out laughing at that, but instead, he held her gaze firmly, not even blinking while looking at her directly in her eyes. His expression was very difficult to read, which made her a little nervous. Out of the blue, her heart started hammering inside her chest, creating a drumming noise inside her head as she, too, refused to look away from him. It almost felt like a staring contest.

When he moved his hand to frame her face, her breathing got a little compromised too. _Oh dear lord, what's going on?_ She had no idea. The only thing she was sure of was how beautiful his blue eyes were, with that sparkle that somehow looked more vivid in the low light of the apartment. The last time she remembered finding his eyes so pretty was on that fateful Thanksgiving Day, and the parallel sounded too risky for her. His thumb moved a little, caressing the skin of her left cheek with a touch that was lighter than air; his fingertips had always felt incredibly soft.

Her heart wouldn't stop beating frantically and the drumming noise inside her head just got louder and louder; she felt like she could combust any minute when he leaned in until their faces were inches apart. Now the blue from his eyes looked even more unbelievably luminous at such short distance, and his breath reeking of alcohol was a strong albeit secret turn on. _Right. We've had a lot to drink_. It was probably the alcohol being a puppet master, making their limbs and brains do weird things just for the sake of it. She took a deep breath, preparing herself to taste those lips she was sure she had been unabashedly staring at for the past few minutes. If possible, Chandler leaned in even more, and right before the moment she expected both of them to close their eyes and kiss, something inside her brain sounded like an alarm going off – she could see by his expression that he had a similar thing inside his brain too. He closed the remaining distance with a little curve; instead of reaching for her lips, he went for her cheek, leaving a soft kiss that felt like fire on her skin, burning her up so intensely that even though it was a friendly and innocent kiss on the cheek, she felt physically forced to close her eyes.

There was a little explosion happening in her chest, spreading a hot wave to every inch of her body afterwards, and when he leaned back to look at her with the biggest smile in the world, she just felt completely warm inside.

"Thank you, Monica." Was the simplest thing that could have left his mouth in such a weird situation, but it worked very well for what she needed. Her smile matching his seemed to calm him down too. He stood up, stretching up a little. "Okay, I guess I better be going."

She felt an urge to tell him to stay and spend the rest of the night with her, maybe even sleep there and just leave the next morning, but she knew why he thought it would be a better idea to leave; she had to admit he was being the reasonable one. Maybe the amount of alcohol to make her throw reason out the window was smaller for her than it was for him. He held his liquor well.

She stood up too, ready to let him go.

"Right. Um, see you tomorrow?"

"Sure."

They hugged a much too long hug that lasted at least some thirty seconds, then disembodied from each other, saying goodbyes with wide smiles and soft eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Author's note: Once more, thank you all for the reviews :D**_

 _ **I've been away because real life and university decided to keep me from doing fun things this week HAHA I'm still very busy, but I'll try to update sooner this time.**_

 _ **This chapter was really difficult to write, but I hope it came out okay and it's enjoyable to read.**_

* * *

 _Early 1992_

Life seemed to be turning around for him.

With Ross and Carol's wedding approaching, he had been a little sad about leaving the dorm with nowhere to go – he'd managed to get quite happy when throwing Ross a bachelor party at the Hut (even though Ross looked unhappy about it; Chandler couldn't understand why), but _that_ making him the happiest he'd been in a long time had a lot of bad implications. He feared his life had reached its peak and everything from that point on would go downhill; although he'd had a very boring experience in college and still felt completely inadequate about every aspect of his life, he'd made friends for the first time ever. He'd finally felt like an integral part of something, and maybe that had only happened because they had been forced into it, for sharing the same educational environment. With the prospect of this routine ending, he'd been apprehensive about going back to complete isolation and unhappiness. Things hadn't happened like this though.

Ross and Carol had gotten married. It had been a simple ceremony, in a fairly small place with just a few people; it had been beautiful nevertheless. Even Chandler had thought so. Monica had been obviously in tears the whole time, and Chandler had stayed beside her, alternating between teasing and consoling his friend – and also doing his best to keep her away from her terrible mother. Why Judy Geller was so willfully awful to Monica, Chandler would never understand.

A couple of months prior to the wedding, fully-graduated Monica had found a job as a line cook in a nice place called Iridium. The cozy restaurant had become one extra hangout place for dinners for the other three of them – not as often as they would have liked to, since they still didn't have that much money to spend eating out, and also because it was a long way off campus. Chandler showed up there alone every now and then, earning Monica's pretty smile and some pleasant conversation during work breaks.

After the wedding, Monica's grandma had decided to leave the city for good, allowing Monica to stay in the apartment on her own. What already felt like Monica's apartment was now officially Monica's apartment. The gang would often hang out there too, and Chandler sometimes would even stay for the night in the guest room (or just the couch, really) to keep Monica company. She had obviously been feeling very lonely for living with no one else in such a big apartment – he could understand that, since he'd been living alone in what once had been a shared room in the dorm, and staying for the night wasn't something he did only for her. Monica also hadn't been making enough money to afford paying the rent, so when Chandler suggested she get a roommate, she'd thought it was a good idea. Announcing a spare room in such a great neighborhood made the offers explode, and one of the first people who had shown up for an interview had been a very quirky blonde girl named Phoebe Buffay. _Even her name's a little unique_ , Chandler had thought, chuckling at Monica's recollections of their first encounter.

"At first, I was really creeped out because she mentioned something about my aura. Then she started talking about living on the streets! She said she'd lived on the streets since she was 14 because her mother killed herself. Can you believe that? The weirdest thing was that she talked about it so casually I honestly don't know if she was being serious or not." Monica had told the three visitors, taking advantage of her new roommate's work time to talk about her. Her friends had just looked at her incredulously, unable to understand why she would have accepted that such a strange person live with her. Monica had explained she had felt something special about the Phoebe girl, to which the others had replied with a shrug, but Chandler had been around Monica for too long by this point not to know the truth. She'd probably wanted to save that blonde girl, to be the one to give a real home to someone who hadn't had one before. _Monica's just that kind of person_. Chandler had been about to blurt that out when he'd decided it would have been better to let it out later, with the couple gone.

The next day, the trio had finally met Phoebe, and they'd totally hit if off from the beginning. Ross, being the science man he oh-so-proudly identified with, had been a little annoyed by the girl's esoteric ways. Also, the girl had mercilessly jabbed at Chandler's constant talking and joking around with sharp remarks, which had made Monica cover her mouth in amused embarrassment. After a while of hanging out together though, the group that had once been a quartet had become an ensemble of five people. Ross and Carol had their own lives but were around as much as possible, and Chandler, Monica and Phoebe's friendship soon enough became something on its own.

One day, while visiting his favorite two girl friends, Chandler had been received with astounding enthusiasm. The girls had practically shouted at him, shoving him out of the door to make him apply for the apartment across the hall, one that had been vacated the previous day. It hadn't taken long for him to get carried away, rapidily becoming very excited about the idea of finally having his own place instead of sleeping in random rooms. Things had worked out fine for him: he'd gotten the place, which was why he was now procrastinating to unpack what was left of his stuff while waiting for another potential roommate to arrive for an interview. The next guy's name was Kip. _Are there only people with weird names in the big city?,_ had been the first thing Chandler thought of when the guy had told his name over the phone. He'd sounded like a pretty normal guy though, and very charming too, at least in a non-face-to-face conversation. When he arrived, Chandler's first thought was "okay, if this guy is my new roommate, I'll definitely be the funny one of a pair". He had his priorities straight though; every guy he'd had interviewed during the last couple of days had been unbelievably annoying or sounded like a maniac and he really just wanted a normal guy to share expenses with. The clock was ticking and he wanted this interview part of the process to be over with, so Chandler was willing to take anyone in, as long as they didn't sound like a serial killer in the making.

"I hope you don't mind the mess. I just moved in a couple of days ago, so things are still scattered around." Chandler commented while leading the guy to what could eventually be his room.

"No problem at all. I completely understand; unpacking sucks."

They laughed a little and shared some personal information about their lives. Kip was a Jewish single man with an apparently overbearing family. He'd just finished college too, and was trying to get a life on his own, although he had always lived in the big city. He was (a little too) tall, with brown hair and brown eyes, and a smile that even Chandler had to admit was very nice to look at. He seemed to be a guy of minimal needs, but very reliable when it came to sharing responsibilities in a shared environment, and that was pretty much everything Chandler had been looking for. Not really in the mood for talking to more people in that tremendously uncomfortable, annoying interview format, Chandler settled for the guy in front of him, shaking hands to seal the deal and telling him he could move in right away if he wanted to.

And he did want to.

The girls were away working when his (too few) boxes arrived. Not getting everything ready before turned out to be a good thing; Chandler and Kip spent all afternoon preparing their new home together. It felt much better that way. They already seemed to fit well as roommates, and Chandler felt like things were finally looking up for him. He still had his friends (he had even one more friend now; even though he and Phoebe had nothing in common at all, he could already call her a friend), he had a job that was terribly boring, but paid very well (somehow he managed to be talented at that job! His performance was sloppy because he hated it so much, but for some reason that didn't compromise his productivity at all), and now he had a home. His home: rent paid by him, furniture picked and bought by him, in an apartment across from his friends', at a great address, in a building that had an awesome bar downstairs. Life was pretty good right now.

Monica's shifts varied a lot and, as expected, Phoebe got home before her. When Chandler introduced his roommate to his friend he felt a little uncomfortable by Phoebe's unabashed flirting. Kip seemed to feel uncomfortable too. Chandler could never understand how Phoebe could go from looking innocent and naïve to this very flirty, dirty lady in a heartbeat (the moment they'd met, he had decided not to dwell on this particular feature of hers, ever).

The bar had become the official hang out place. Whenever they felt like it, they would go there, and more often than not they would find someone from the group shooting some pool or having a drink. Even Ross and Carol, who didn't even live in the same neighborhood, would show up almost every night and just talk and have some beers with everybody else.

Now, there were three of them; Chandler, Phoebe and the new guy Kip. The new guy Kip who was now talking to them very casually, as if he had been a close acquaintance for a long time. Chandler nervously anticipated the other three meeting Kip, as he obviously didn't want anything to disrupt the peace and safeness coming from his tight group of friends. He'd caught sight of Monica entering the place out of the corner of his eyes, and got excited to introduce them to each other when he noticed that something suddenly flickered in her eyes once she saw them. He was frowning as he had no idea what would come from that, but when he turned his head to look at Kip, seeing the same spark in his roommate's eyes, lips a little parted as if he was in a state of shock, Chandler just knew it (the fact that Phoebe was giggling already made it all even more obvious). _Oh, great_ , he thought.

"Hi", Monica greeted the three of them – just in theory, really, as her eyes never left the new guy's.

"Hi", he lamely answered, adding something quickly after clearing his throat. "I-I don't believe we met. My name's Kip."

Chandler rolled his eyes. _Yeah, it's happening, and I did not see this one coming_.

The couple appeared to be oblivious to the world, talking mostly to each other for an hour or so. By seeing their conversation unfold, Chandler and Phoebe learned a lot about Kip – some things about his previous homes, a thing or two about his childhood, even some (unnecessary, in Chandler's opinion) stories about previous relationships. Eyeing the interaction between those two with conflicting expressions, Phoebe drank her beer between giggles while Chandler gulped the beverage with visible annoyance.

"He's not taking her from you." The fact that Monica and Kip were so much into each other allowed Phoebe to whisper the remark matter-of-factly in Chandler's ear.

"What?" He looked at her as if she were crazy.

"Remember how you thought Carol would take Ross from you? Well, it didn't happen, right? He's still around all the time, loving you just as much. It's the same here. Monica's all smitten about the new guy because, you know, who wouldn't be." He rolled his eyes as his friend lustily stared at Kip again. "But that's all there is to it. Even if she married this guy, this wouldn't take her from you."

Chandler had no idea how Phoebe could know his deepest, most hidden feelings about Ross and Carol's relationship; he could even less take a guess at how she managed to notice what he was feeling about Monica and Kip's interaction when he wasn't even sure of what he was feeling in the first place. _Phoebe's really weird_ , Chandler simply concluded, before nudging her on the shoulder, smiling softly at her, and getting back to his drink.

Ross and Carol arrived not long after that, and when Chandler looked around, he realized he was being part of a group of six people, happily talking and laughing about the most random things. That made him smile to himself.

Ross clearly noticed his sister's behavior towards the new guy, but Kip was just so charming that even Ross seemed to find him good enough for his younger sibling. (Chandler allowed himself an attempt at psychological self-harm by thinking for a second _I wonder what Ross would feel if the guy all over his little sister was me_ ).

They parted ways, saying goodbye to Ross and Carol first, than heading upstairs for their apartments. When they arrived at number 19 and 20's doors, Phoebe still looked amused while witnessing how Monica very obviously wanted to say goodbye to Kip with a kiss yet just as obviously was too embarrassed by the presence of an audience, while Chandler just put on a straight face, a very bitter comment in the lines of _get a room_ desperately yearning to leave his mouth (how he had managed to hold that back was beyond him).

He knew what kind of dialogue would happen after getting into their apartment, so Chandler braced himself.

"Um… That Monica girl… She's pretty nice, huh?" _There you go_.

"Yeah, she's great."

"She's funny, and smart, and so so so hot." Kip shut his eyes, as if to emphasize the truth in his statement.

"Tell me about it."

"Um, does she have a boyfriend?"

"Nope." Chandler studied his new roommate's face. He seemed to be a good guy. Monica, more than anyone else in the world, deserved a good guy. "I think you should ask her out."

"Really?" Kip looked unsure. "Don't you think it would be weird? I mean, she's your friend and we live across the hall, I don't know."

Chandler hadn't really given the whole thing this much thought. He was actually impressed that this guy had. "I don't know. She seemed to like you too, so if I were you, my man, I would take that opportunity."

"Yeah… I guess I will."

Kip left right there to knock at their neighbor's door and ask her out. Chandler half expected him to come back soon. Well, he didn't.

Chandler took a shower and went to bed. First night with a roommate, he was sleeping alone in his apartment, with the guy that just arrived in his group of friends sweeping his best (and hottest) girl friend off her feet. It was just like him having something like that happen. For once, he tried to look at the bright side. So what if he was always the lonely one? So what if all his closest friends seemed to be having sex on a regular basis while he didn't? So what if he never had a girl look at him the way Phoebe and Monica looked at Kip? So what, really? All things considered, life was still pretty great.

That was the moment, that one right before sleeping, when his brain usually decided to air some short movies of his darkest fears mixed with his most prolific fantasies behind his eyes. It was like a curse or something. That night he just needed a black screen to sleep well. He did his best to clear his self-abusive mind before letting himself drift off.


	7. Chapter 7

_Early 1993_

"I don't understand. I mean, am I so hard to live with? Is this why I don't have a boyfriend?" Monica was definitely wallowing in self-pity, not even worried about showing that much vulnerability in front of Chandler. She had been completely vulnerable in front of him before, but for the couple of months she'd dated Kip, she could feel they had become a little more distant. She could understand why.

"No! You don't have a boyfriend because..." She looked at him expectantly, waiting for an explanation that would solve this big mystery that was her constant loneliness. "I don't- I don't know why you don't have a boyfriend. You should have a boyfriend."

He said that so truthfully Monica didn't even urge him to come up with a valid reason, being left with no option other than agreement.

"Well, I think so."

He chuckled at that. "Oh, come here." Getting closer to where she was, he pulled her into a tight hug as she wrapped her arms around his waist, hands clinging onto his back. "Listen, you are one of my favorite people and the most beautiful woman I've ever known in real life."

That made Monica smile before she closed her eyes and rested her head on his chest. Chandler was a great friend when he wasn't making jokes about everything. He frequently crossed the line between being a supportive friend and a complete jackass, but for some unknown reason, he had always managed to work that line well when it came to her. Racking through her memories, she couldn't really remember any moment when she had been seriously depressed that had become a joke for him. Even if there had been sarcasm involved (it was an essential part of his way of communicating, she thought), he'd managed to say the right thing to make her feel loved and comforted, just like he had done just now.

 _Aaaah, he smells so good._ Monica secretly admired the fact that he always emanated cleanliness, exuding scents that one might find too feminine. She found them great. His clothes were always spotless, his skin always smelt like soap, his breath always minty fresh, and hugging him always felt very good. He was a very soft man – he didn't like that feature about him, but she loved it.

While being protected in his comfortable arms, her mind brought her back to two particular past memories. One of them from two years earlier, the night Ross had announced his engagement. She remembered feeling terrible about it and sharing her horrible, jealous feelings with Chandler in this very apartment, both surrounded by dim lights and a lot of alcohol. That night they had almost kissed (something they had silently agreed to never ever talk about again, leading life as if that little moment they'd shared had never happened).

The other memory was more recent, from just a couple of months earlier, after The Break Up had happened. Kip had asked her out the same day they had met, but it had taken them a while to start a relationship. The crazy passion that had appeared out of the blue had faded away very quickly as soon as they'd noticed they'd had nothing in common. Also, despite being very charming, Kip was actually a very dubious man. Monica had noticed some lying in several different situations – something she'd chosen to keep to herself for two reasons. First of all, for finding that too humiliating to share; second of all, for fear of turning her friends, who had been his friends too, against him. Turns out she'd never had to tell anything to anyone. After a month of trying to avoid him, the gang had unintendedly stopped seeing him too. She'd never known she'd had such loyal friends up until that point. Even Chandler, the roommate, the _male_ roommate, the potential candidate for Kip's best friend position; even he had started hanging out much more in her apartment, leaving Kip alone most of the time. When Kip had moved out, Monica had thought it had been because of the pain of getting phased out by his own friends. Little had she known, he'd actually run off to marry another woman. Somehow he'd managed to meet someone, fall in love and get engaged in less than two months after they'd broken up – or maybe he'd been with another woman behind her back before; Monica would never be able to find out. The group had tried their best to keep that information from her, but she'd heard it through the grapevine anyway. Chandler had been the unlucky one who had dropped by the moment she had been crying over her new discovery. Visibly uncomfortable by seeing her in such a terrible state, Chandler had remained speechless for a while, looking as if he'd wanted to run away and hide until she'd felt better by herself, but, at the same, totally aware of the fact that he couldn't have done that. He had stayed, hugging her tightly, letting her tears soak up his shirt, choosing to stay silent the whole time, allowing her to let all the sorrow out before offering a beer and only then drinking with her until she had been well enough to hear some crude jokes about her ex.

Chandler was never regarded as an amazing friend, and those moments were not as frequent as they used to be when they were in college, but Monica knew that in his weird, dysfunctional way, he did his best to support his friends. She knew he thought of her as a very important part of his life, and all the sweet things that left his mouth when he tried to comfort her came straight from his heart – which would explain why they were always so chandler-like yet very effective in soothing her.

When she came back to her senses, they were still wrapped around each other. She kept her eyes closed, reveling in the feeling of being hugged by one of her favorite people too.

She heard him make a sound that could easily be described as a moan, which made her know that he was, too, getting a little carried away by the moment. Chandler had always been the reasonable one in dangerous situations like that; Monica expected him to kill the mood that could lead to something else any time soon. She didn't know how he would do it, but she was certain he would eventually say something _wrong_ with the very intention of stopping whatever was happening.

"Hmmm, this is nice."

"I know, it is, isn't it?"

"No, I mean it, this feels really good. Is it a hundred percent cotton?"

Monica felt like laughing out loud at his creativity, but only allowed herself a soft chuckle against his chest, pulling her head back to look at him. "Yeah! And I got it on sale, too."

"I mean, it looks nubby but... but it's not." He could be so cute sometimes; she had to give him that. And then they finally let go of each other. "Anyway, I should go. One of the lifeguards was just about to dismantle a nuclear device."

"Well, if you wanna get a drink later, we can."

"Oh yeah, that sounds great." He was about to leave for good when he suddenly turned around to look at her again. "Oh, and listen, it's- it's gonna be..."

"I know." Indeed, she knew. "Thanks."

He pointed at her while leaving, and she pointed at him back, feeling so much better than before. Maybe she wasn't the easiest person to deal with; maybe her issues got the best of her sometimes; maybe she got carried away by her own neurosis and obsessions. Monica would never deny any of that. But she had this close friend for how long now? Five years? And they were still very close – she was one of his favorite people, he'd said so himself more than once! Maybe that meant she wouldn't be doomed to loneliness, right? There were people who were able to be around her without finding it plain torture. Maybe all Phoebe needed was some time apart so they could be friends again, supporting each other and cherishing the strong connection they had built while living together.

And she didn't have a boyfriend because… Well, she didn't know why she didn't have a boyfriend. Maybe it was just a matter of luck, after all. She got dressed and thought about the new roommate. Joey, was it? He had found her attractive, right? Maybe he was a little crazy, but he definitely wanted her. _Speaking of which, Chandler left without the beers_. The drink for later could come earlier.

Monica left her bedroom, heading for the kitchen to get three bottles of beer and walked to the apartment across the hall. She knocked on the door tentatively, being received by a surprised Chandler.

"You, um… you forgot the beer." Her smile was a little embarrassed as she steeled herself against facing that Joey guy again. Chandler was completely oblivious.

"Sure! Come in." Chandler gestured towards the man sitting in the couch, "Hey, Joe. This is Monica Geller. Monica, this is Joey Tribbiani."

Joey was startled by the sudden introduction, getting up in a hurry and once more getting a head rush in front of the same girl. Monica could see him cursing something in a different language (was it really Italian?) in a low whisper, and she chuckled a little at how he looked like a cranky little child while doing that.

"I- Um, we, um… We met before."

"You did?" Chandler was confused.

"Okay, why don't we sit down and open these bottles?" Monica offered. "We have a little story for you."

* * *

Chandler looked at them with a shocked expression; Monica got a kick out of it. Now that the horrifying stripping moment had passed and they were retelling what happened with alcohol involved, it didn't sound that bad anymore. It was actually pretty funny.

If she ever felt attracted to this Joey guy, she was sure the feeling was dead and buried, six feet under ( _Well, he's still very cute. Also, he has amazing arms, doesn't he?_ She could appreciate that, nobody needed to know).

"How many times have women invited you over for a drink with the intention of having sex?" Chandler's words carried an equal amount of horror and awe, Monica could tell.

"Well, I kinda lost count." Joey answered with a smirk. Monica rolled her eyes, kind of wanting to beat the smug out of his face. ( _Okay, not so cute anymore_ , she thought).

"I mean it when I say that something like this could never happen to anyone I know…" Monica said before bringing the bottle to her lips.

Joey looked embarrassed again. It was really amusing watching him – he was a rugged guy, with broad shoulders, all macho, an Al Pacino wannabe, assuming invitations for drinks meant invitations for sex, but somehow he looked almost innocent while getting stared at by the two people talking to (and undeniably judging) him. Monica smiled softly at his peculiar behavior – she looked at Chandler for a second and could see by his cynical eyes and hanging smile that he had similar thoughts about his new roommate. Monica predicted those two would become real friends.

"Hey, um, I don't know if Chandler told you. There's a bar downstairs. Really great place, but it's getting closed down soon to become a coffeehouse." Monica grimaced at that.

"Ugh. Bummer, huh?" Joey replied, curiosity on his features.

"Do you wanna go there while we still can? I guess it must be closed by now, but the owner sometimes lets us have the key. Phoebe might be there. Maybe Ross too!"

"Oh yeah. You need to meet the rest of the gang."

The Italian man looked like a child again, sporting a very excited smile, pouring the rest of the drink into his mouth before standing up, ready to go.

Monica and Chandler exchanged a look, grinning at his excitement.

* * *

"My wife's a lesbian." Ross's voice sounded thick with misery; Monica felt terrible just by looking at him.

"Cool!" Joey said out loud with a ridiculously enthusiastic face. _Really? First he strips for me, then he congratulates Ross on his wife's newfound sexuality. What's next? Is he going to laugh when Phoebe mentions her dead mother? Is he going to assume Chandler is gay?_ Monica couldn't believe this guy.

"Ross, Joey. Joey, Ross." Ross and Joey just shook hands after Chandler's pained introduction.

Chandler and Monica were both concerned about a possible terrible first impression, but Ross just greeted the new guy, probably too miserable to understand what he'd meant. Monica gave Phoebe a surreptitious glance, scared of finding annoyance in her friend's face; she was met with a soft smile instead. When she turned to Chandler, he had been watching the silent interaction between the two girls with a grin too, wiggling his eyebrows, trying to communicate with no words. "See? Things will be okay", Monica read from the unvoiced remark.

Yeah, things would be okay.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Author's note: the dates in previous chapters were based on assumptions, calculation and imagination hahaha from now on, the dates will be based on the airing of the episodes.**_

 _ **I'm trying to really follow the canon here and I feel like Rachel's arrival is a turning point for all of them, so I had to cover that in this story. I believe the next chapters will be much more about Monica and Chandler's interactions. I hope this is still enjoyable and not too boring haha**_

* * *

 _Late 1994_

Monica was a very smart woman. She was intelligent and mature – if you needed advise, she had always been the way to go. As Chandler watched her prance around the coffeehouse, a furious speech about guys being awful leaving her mouth, he concluded that when it came to men, she could be as naïve as a kid.

Paul the wine guy? That good-looking man? No sex for two years? Because of a trauma? _Well, I have traumas and I would never stop having sex (if I had any say in it)_. Hell, Ross was getting divorced in a terrible way (add to that the fact that the guy was all about commitment and love), but Chandler was sure that even he wouldn't be rejecting sex for that long because of a bad experience.

As Monica proclaimed her hatred for men over and over again, he couldn't really blame her or even defend the group.

Not long after that, Rachel got in. Yes, Rachel Green. Her whole behavior was unbelievable. Chandler had a hard time considering himself an adult – even though he was one of those, according to his age. He still felt too immature, sometimes even too spoiled. By seeing that girl come in after a failed day of job hunting, carrying bags that denounced shopping, of all things (not only she confirmed the inference, she also admitted to having used her father's credit card to buy some I-don't-need-a-job/I-don't-need-my-parents boots). Wow. Talk about spoiled. At that moment, Chandler felt like the most mature man on earth. Leave it to Monica to call her ex-but-apparently-current-again-friend out on that, reminding her of how unreasonable that whole thing was.

Rachel was a very attractive girl, Chandler had always thought that. He found it amusing being re-introduced to her the previous day, especially because she seemed to have no memory of him whatsoever. Well, he didn't blame her – why would the pretty cheerleader remember someone like him from random quick meetings from years ago? (Well, they had kissed at that college party, but hopefully she had been too drunk to remember anything the next day; because of Ross, Chandler swore to take that secret with him to the grave). What he found even more interesting was the fact that the girl in sight had ditched Monica mercilessly, and yet was around again, crying for help, and actually being helped by the one she had abandoned. It was just like Monica to assume to mother role, being responsible for making someone follow the righteous path in life.

After some whining, Rachel had to agree that using her father's credit card wasn't the best idea. Monica had then suggested (imposed) she cut all the cards she still had, dragging the girl upstairs; the rest of the gang followed suit with avid curiosity to see that special moment.

"Cut! Cut! Cut! Cut!", they chanted together, and Rachel used a scissor to cut through the plastic material as if it were cutting a patch of her own skin.

"Welcome to the real world! It sucks. You're gonna love it." _Words to live by_ , Chandler thought. He watched Monica's protective behavior and took that as one more obvious evidence as to why she was one of his favorite people in the world. Rachel's luckiest day in life was definitely the moment she'd met Monica.

Not long after that, Phoebe left, mentioning something about watching a movie with her grandmother, and Chandler and Joey retreated to their apartment, planning on getting ready to go to bed. Ross, Monica and Rachel bid the three of them good night while plopping on the couch to watch some TV.

"That Rachel girl. She's really hot, isn't she?" Joey said as they got into number 19.

"Oh, yeah." Chandler agreed enthusiastically.

"I'm thinking about asking her out."

"Oh no! No-no-no-no!" The enthusiasm gave place to horror.

"What?"

"She's going to live across the hall! You remember what I told you about my old roommate and Monica?"

"Yeah, the Keith guy. So?"

"Kip. And what do you mean "so"? You're obviously going to sleep with her and never have anything more serious develop. That'll break her heart and things will get weird!"

"Hey! Who says so? Maybe she's the one!"

"Joey. Just yesterday you didn't know if you had a date with Andrea or Angela when in fact your date was Julie."

Joey laughed at that, not a hint of shame on his face. "Okay, maybe it won't get serious, but who says it needs to get serious? She's probably going to stay over just for a few days anyway."

"I don't think so. I'm pretty sure she's going to be around for a long time."

"How can you be so sure?" Joey's question resonated within him. How could he be so sure?

Well, he knew Monica, that's how.

After Joey's presence in their little group of friends, Chandler could feel that his relationship with Monica had become even more distant than when she had been dating Kip. He figured having a new best friend was the reason. (Especially when said best friend was pretty much like a child. Chandler sometimes felt he was more responsible for Joey's wellbeing than his own. Not that he was forced to; he just felt a strong urge to protect the child-like Italian man in a way he had never felt with anyone else in his life before). He knew Monica felt lonely, having no female friend around to share her feelings about boys and life in general. She had been taking care of Ross a lot; with his dreadful divorce coming, he had been around her apartment much, and Monica had been the greatest sister ever, trying her best to comfort her big brother in this time of need. Even so, there was a difference between having male friends and a big brother around, and having another girl living with her. After Phoebe's moving out, Monica had never brought up the possibility of finding a new roommate, and Chandler couldn't put his finger on it. He assumed she was still afraid of meeting a new friend only to drive her away with her intense personality. He felt that Rachel showing up out of the blue was everything that had been missing from their group – a new roommate for Monica who could eventually be, for her, what Joey had been for him.

Not at all in the mood to explain all that to Joey, Chandler just shrugged.

"Eh. It's a gut feeling. Besides, I'll give one more reason not to ask her out. She's Ross's dream girl from high school."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Believe me, the first time I saw her, I felt like I knew her already because Ross couldn't shut up about liking her."

"What? I thought you two had never met before."

"Well, it's a long story."

"Well, I'm listening."

* * *

A soft knock on the front door disturbed Chandler's concentration from his book. He was already set in bed with plans on sleeping right after finishing his reading activity, although by the snoring noise that came from his roommate's room, Chandler figured he would be the one to get up and answer the door. Considering it was late at night, it could only possibly be one person, so he groaned but left his sheets to get up anyway.

"Hey."

"Hey. I've run out of milk. Can I have some?" Monica asked in a low voice.

"Considering that half of your income goes into feeding Joey, you're more than welcomed to get whatever you want from our fridge. Watch out for the expiration date though."

Monica rolled her eyes good-naturedly while opening the refrigerator in search of what she wanted.

"Can't sleep?" Chandler inquired as he leaned onto the kitchen counter.

"Yeah. I'm exhausted, but for some reason I can't get any sleep."

"And who's the entity responsible for doing that to you? Is it named Paul or… Rachel?"

"Ugh, do you really have to mention his name?" She poured the milk into her cup, grunting in frustration. "Seriously, I still can't believe him. Why are men like that? What's wrong with you people?"

"You know, one would expect me to go all 'not all men' on you, but we as a group are really not the best. Besides, I'm certainly one of the worst specimens around so…"

Chandler could tell she was about to reprimand him for that self-deprecating remark; that was how that kind of conversation usually went down between them. Monica seemed to be too tired for that so the scold never came.

"So, I assume that now you have a new roommate."

She sighed. "I don't know. Maybe she'll just be around for a little while, until she figures out what to do with her life."

"Monica, I bet that girl will need a lot of time before she figures out what to do with her life." Once more, she didn't say anything; he could tell by the expression on her face that she agreed with his statement. "She couldn't have a better person to teach her a thing or two about real life though. I'm sure she's never going to let you go again."

Monica bit the insides of her mouth before letting a faint yet sincere smile appear.

"Thanks."

"Just stating the obvious, ma'am."

She looked down, seemingly to hide her embarrassment, then lifted the cup she'd been holding. "Well, I've got some milk to warm and some sleeping to do. See you tomorrow."

"See you." Chandler watched her go before turning around to go back to his room.


	9. Chapter 9

_Mid 1995_

It was unbelievable how things were never easy for them. Ross had been stressing over the birth of his son, but now that it was finally about to happen, he was nowhere to be seen. Monica had been exploring the place with Chandler, their intent only on finding Ross, until they realized Phoebe and Joey were also missing. What was going on, for god's sake?

To make things worse, Monica was now having the most unpleasant conversation with her mother on the phone. Not only she had to calm the woman down, she had also to deal with her mom's usual criticisms of her single status. Apparently, every moment was appropriate for that. Things would be okay if she could only truthfully tell her mother that she wasn't thinking about babies, but the fact that she'd been jealous of every parent in the building since the moment she'd gotten into the hospital only aggravated her fragility regarding the mean comments. It was bad enough that she wanted a baby and wasn't anywhere near having one; listening to her mother blatantly saying that Ross was her only chance of having grandchildren reaffirmed her fear of dying an old maid.

She lost all strength in her limbs when she saw another adorable, perfect, little baby being carried in front of her. Luckily, Chandler was around; she surely was about to drop the phone. She didn't even register what he did – did he just hang up on her mother? Did he come up with a lame excuse to do so? She didn't know, really, too absorbed in her own sadness to tell, reaching for his body, hungry for some comfort. His chest was always a very pleasant place to rest her head on, his scent and warmth always inviting, and his hand softly caressing her hair was the cherry on top. Having him so close was good for the moment, but not good enough to make her bad feelings completely go away. Joey finally showed up then. Well, not Ross, but it was at least one less person to worry about.

"Where have you been?"

"I just had a baby." What? Did Joey impregnate a woman without their knowing? Was everybody around her age having babies except her?

"Mazel tov!" Chandler shouted, obviously unfazed by that possibility. For a split second, she wished she shared his fear of commitment. _At least this way being here wouldn't hurt so much._

Joey told them about the pregnant lady who hated the Knicks, visibly invested in the birth of her baby even though she was a complete stranger.

"Where are you going?" Chandler asked him, noticing his story had been told in a hurry, as if he hadn't been done with helping the lady yet.

"I'm going to the gift shop. I'll get her something nice." He smiled softly before leaving the two of them alone.

She faced Chandler again, not a single ounce of motivation left to keep on the search party.

"Hey, you okay?" Her friend seemed to notice her slumped demeanor, getting close to her again, running his hand over her shoulder.

"I'm fine, just a little jealous of the happy parents. I'm only 26 though. It's too soon, right? I mean, it's not like I'm a single 40-year-old woman." She only noticed what saying that sounded like the minute it left her mouth. By the pained look on Chandler's face, she assumed it was too late to take it back. As usual, her mother's words replayed in her mind, and she looked at Chandler with a desperate expression on. "What if my mother's right? What if Ross is her only chance to have grandchildren? What if I'm not married when I'm forty?"

"Monica, that's crazy! Why wouldn't you be married when you're forty?"

"I don't know! You also implied that I wouldn't be, and you weren't able to answer that question."

"I'm sorry, okay? I'm an idiot. You shouldn't be hung up on what I said. Of course you'll be married way before you're forty. I was just trying to give you one extra option, but I'm sure you won't be needing it." She didn't buy it at all. Why would he say that if he didn't believe it? Was she really that lame that her best male friend was willing to offer her a family out of pity?

Monica had no idea what to say. Everything about to leave her mouth sounded too pitiful. As if he could tell how she was feeling, he kept talking.

"You're wonderful, okay? You're beautiful, you're reliable, you're smart. Any guy would be lucky to have you and give you babies. And, seriously, I'm one hundred percent sure that if anyone from our group won't be married at forty, that person will be me."

"Chandler…" Did he really have to talk down on himself to talk her up?

"Plus, I offered to be your backup for my own sake. If I had to choose someone to make that deal with, it would definitely be you."

"Oh, stop. You're just saying that." Monica was already smiling though. His attempts at comforting her were always very adorable, and somehow always sounded sincere.

"No, seriously. I mean, I think marrying Phoebe would be weird, and our kids would probably be way more messed up than the usual troubled teens."

"She strikes me as a future soccer mom though, you know." Unexpectedly, Monica found herself getting along with the odd discussion on hypothetical marriages. "Marrying her would guarantee you a Von Trapp family."

He winced at that. "No, thank you. I'm also afraid of the physical part of the relationship. I think Phoebe can been… weird… you know? Sexually speaking."

Oh, yeah, she could. Monica knew _a lot_ about Phoebe's activities in bed. Obviously, she wouldn't expose her friend's sexual life to Chandler, so she just bit her tongue back and agreed sheepishly. "Yeah, probably." The conversation had somehow gotten interesting and, without realizing it, they both sat very close to each other at one couch in the waiting room. "What about Rachel?"

"Well, Rachel. She's very pretty and very sexy, but it's just too weird. If we were together, I'd feel guilty all the time because of…" Monica's interest perked at that. Guilty? He seemed to get in panic mode, looking as if he was about to let some mindboggling secret out.

"Because of what?" She inquired attentively.

"Because of her first fiancé. I mean, she left the guy at the altar. I can relate to that guy, he could easily be me."

"Really? The guy who was cheating on her with her bridesmaid? Wow, men really only care about each other."

"Yeah, I think you could say that." Chandler never said anything else about his reasons not to marry Rachel. Monica assumed he was afraid of getting an earful on the awfulness of men. However, it didn't take long for him to continue talking. "With you, though, I think I would be fine."

"Why do you think so?"

"Why? _Why?_ Seriously? Look at you! Look at _us_! We're great together, come on." His voice carried a lot of teasing; she couldn't help laughing at him.

"Yeah, we are, but not in _that_ way."

"And whose fault is that?" Chandler used his seductive fake voice. Monica just slapped his thigh.

"Will you stop? I want real, meaningful reasons."

He lifted his hand, about to use his fingers for counting. "Okay. First of all, you're beautiful. I mean, not that Phoebe and Rachel aren't; it's just that you're easily the prettiest." He'd said something about her being beautiful countless times before, and Monica half expected not to feel a little flushed at the compliment anymore, but it felt just as good hearing it again. He'd always said that naturally, almost like an obvious fact that didn't need any further explanation. "Second, you're not weird like Phoebe, or spoiled like Rachel, which leads to third, it's just… fun being around you, you know?"

"Not many people think that." She added a bit sadly.

"Well, I said _fun_ , not _easy_." He got slapped again at that. "Fourth, we've known each other forever. And last but not least, the process of making the babies would be great." Chandler wiggled his eyebrows at her, earning a disgusted face.

"You're so gross."

He gasped, dramatically putting a hand over his chest. "That's not the way to talk to your future husband!" When she laughed and slapped his thigh one more time, he groaned hysterically, as if he had been severely beaten up. "Such a violent spouse! I might need a divorce."

While laughing out loud, she could tell by the satisfied look on his face that her laughter was exactly what he had aimed for with that little weird conversation.

"Seriously, things will be okay. I'm sure it won't take long until you're living in the suburbs with your husband, four kids, two dogs and a cat."

"I'd rather have a goldfish instead of a cat. You know I'm allergic." The playful tone of her voice in the last sentence made them both conclude she was feeling much better. "Thank you."

His reply came as a gentle grin. Rachel then came out of the delivery room in high spirits.

"You guys! It's happening!"

"Oh, my God!" They exclaimed in unison, standing up in a hurry. They ran towards the room where Carol was in, readying themselves to see a brand new little Geller come to life.


	10. Chapter 10

**_Author's note: maybe I'm cheating a little by bringing two moments from the same year, but I really wanted to write about this haha Once more, thank you for the reviews!_**

* * *

 _Late 1995_

There was a get together planned for later at Ross's place, and Chandler walked into Monica's apartment to ask her if one bottle of wine was good enough. She was getting a pie out of the oven, seemingly alone. As soon as she saw him, she narrowed her eyes.

"What? Are you still mad at me?"

She walked around the kitchen table to face him, a finger defiantly pointed at his face. "I cannot believe you told Phoebe about the underwear!"

"I cannot believe you told everybody about my third nipple! Come on, we're even. If anyone here has the right to be upset, that person is me."

"What? You swore you would never tell anyone."

"Monica, it's Phoebe. She can sense things." He tried to convince her of that, but it was obviously not working.

"No-no-no, don't even try to do that. You shouldn't have told her anyway. I cannot believe you told her."

"It was about sex on the balcony! That's hot! It's not like I told everybody about some abnormality in your body."

She rolled her eyes at his drama. "Chandler, it's just a nipple. It's nothing that serious."

"Well, I don't like it. It was bad enough that you knew it and that Joey'd found out. No one else was supposed to know." Suddenly, Chandler was filled with malice, a desire to spite her even more taking over his actions. "I don't really think we're even."

"What does that mean?" Monica appeared to be taken aback by that.

"I think I should get back at you again." He enjoyed the way her eyes narrowed even more until they almost looked like slits. "And, my friend, you know I have a pretty huge arsenal of embarrassing secrets from you to share."

"Are you threatening me?"

"I don't know. I'm just curious to find out how our friends would react to some of the things I've seen in college."

Monica gasped at his daring attitude.

"Well, then, maybe, it would be fun to know how they would react to the fact that you didn't have sex until you were 23."

Chandler's eyes were wide and fiery at her audacity.

"What about the fact that you referred to 'losing your virginity' as 'giving your flower'?"

"What about your graduation party when you got so drunk you kissed Ross?"

"I kissed you too! Ha!"

Her defeated expression didn't last long. "Well, maybe they would be thrilled to know there's some description of your sex life in one of Nora Tyler Bing's books."

"Hey!"

"Very detailed description by the way, your mom's really put her heart into that one." Her sarcasm was infuriating but he would not tolerate that.

"Oh, yeah? I happen to be very good at detailed storytelling too, you know? Especially when I'm at a party, and I see a girl getting so hammered to the point where she publicly confesses her love to a stranger... thinking he was her crush."

"Don't you dare!" Her lifted finger was almost touching his face now. "I confided that in you!"

"Confided? Monica, I witnessed the whole thing. It was like a surreal sitcom before my very eyes."

"Chandler!"

"'Hey, Mike, I love you so much. Please go out with me!'" He made kissing noises to magnify his impression of an infatuated, drunk Monica.

"Stop it!"

"'Mike? My name's Dale.'"

"Chandler Muriel Bing!"

He was rendered speechless at her sudden utterance of his dreadful middle name.

By the look on her face, Chandler could tell she enjoyed his reaction too much. She drew her body closer to his with an evil grin, looking like a predator approaching its prey, running her hand over his chest. "Oh, yeah. I know your middle name, remember? You better not mess with me, Bing." To make her defiance even more appalling, she pinched his third nipple through his shirt, making him jerk back in complete horror.

"You're a very dangerous woman, Geller." She just smiled at him with an arched eyebrow, a victorious expression gracing her features. "Okay, can we drop this for now?"

"For now? What about forever?" She said as she moved back to her pie.

"Sounds good to me. Although…" He followed her, standing beside her surreptitiously, and whispered in her ear. "I have Joey's porno movie."

"Oh, my God!" She virtually squealed with joy, enthusiasm replacing the hostile energy from seconds before. "Are you going to bring it to Ross's?"

"Of course I am. That's the kind of secret that should be shared with everybody. You know, to solidify the foundation of our friendship as a group."

"I'm totally on board. Hey, did you get wine?"

"Oh yeah, one bottle's good?"

"I think so. Let's go, let's go, let's go! It's getting late!"

"Okay!"


	11. Chapter 11

_Late 1996_

The poking device had proved to be effective – Phoebe had calmed down, finally, and they were ready to eat some pizza and celebrate the fact that no one had died when she'd visited her dentist. She was finally able to eat without being in pain too. She had been so excited she'd offered to be the one to get the pizza. "I'll be back soon!", she'd announced before leaving. During that time, Joey had told the rest of the gang about his little talk with Chandler. It seemed that he'd decided to finish things with Janice so that she could give her marriage another chance. Everybody admired Chandler's decision, even though no one offered to reach out to him and cheer him up. They had heard the door from across the hall open and close, and had assumed their friend was a single man again; as if they had silently agreed to leave him alone for a minute, everybody, even Joey, just stayed at Monica's apartment.

She was a little worried about Chandler though. They'd been friends for a long time now, and she had never seen him invest so much in a relationship before the way he'd done with Janice the last few months. The fact that he'd tried so hard, only to find out the woman he'd loved had been cheating on him… that was horrible.

Not mentioning her plan on checking on him to the rest of the gang, Monica left her living room stealthily and found his door open. She furrowed her eyebrows when she heard some singing, and as she peeked into the apartment, she saw Phoebe sitting next to Chandler. They both formed a duet, singing a heartfelt rendition of Endless Love by Lionel Richie. The scene was adorable. Even though she knew that it stemmed from pain, she couldn't help smiling by herself; the sight of two of her closest friends bonding that way was too cute for her to handle. They went off key at the end, and she covered her mouth to stifle the noise of her laughter, then composed herself and entered the place.

"Hey there."

"Hey!" Phoebe turned to her excitedly, pointing to the pizza box she had laid on the kitchen counter. "I got us pizza."

Chandler had been singing in what had sounded like a more relaxed mood, but as soon as Phoebe left his side, he seemed to shut inside himself again, a blank stare reigning over his face.

Monica inquired Phoebe with her eyes, not uttering a word. Phoebe just shook her head negatively, then turned back to him with an attempt at spreading enthusiasm.

"Hey, Chandler, I got us pizza. To celebrate the fact that no one died, you know?"

"I wouldn't be so sure about that…"

 _Ugh, he's bad_ , Monica thought.

"Why don't we all go to Monica's and eat?" She continued, ignoring his previous depressing reply and its terrible implications.

"I'm not very hungry."

Phoebe looked at Monica resignedly, and Monica knew her friend was aware of the fact that she would do something, _anything_ , to get Chandler's ass to her apartment. No way in hell she would leave him alone in that state. As if she trusted Monica on that task, knowing she wouldn't be of much help herself, Phoebe just grabbed the pizza box and left, closing the door behind her.

Monica scanned Chandler thoroughly this time. He was on his chair, hugging a Lionel Richie record, big headphones hanging on his neck and a flashy shoe on his hand – by how flashy it looked, she assumed it was Janice's. She wanted to ask why he had her shoe, but thought better of it, deciding to just get closer to him and sit on the arm rest. She caressed the back of his head softly.

"Joey told us. How are you holding up?"

He glanced at her, a very pitiful expression making her heart sting.

"You know, that's why I don't do it."

She knew what he would say next, but asked anyway. "That's why you don't do what?"

"The commitment thing." She watched him clench his jaw in obvious pain. "You were there. I was afraid of it, but I thought it would be worth it. I always thought that me running away from her would ruin things. I thought that getting past that part would guarantee us being together forever. But see what happened."

"Chandler…"

"I mean, that's what _always_ happens. Things don't work out. This is proof that no matter what I do, no matter how hard I try, things just don't work out."

"Chandler, that's not true. You were unlucky. Janice was in a complicated situation, she hadn't even gotten divorced yet. It doesn't mean that it will always be like this. I'm sure you'll find a woman who will be there for you, and the effort you put into the relationship will be worth it."

"Oh, yeah? So you're just sure that this will happen? How can you be so sure?"

"I…"

"I mean, look around! Relationships only lead to pain. Everybody is hurting, all the time. The good part only lasts seconds, and the bad part lasts forever… And it also makes you wish you had a bullet in your head."

She just stroked his arms, not knowing what to say. When Chandler was that invested into making himself feel terrible, no one was able to stop him. She wanted so bad to have her romantic side speak louder and convince him that true love exists and is around the corner. She wanted to make him believe that all the effort you put into a commitment turns into sheer happiness in the future. She wanted to tell him that when _that_ love comes, everything's perfect, and you experience real joy. She wanted very bad to make him believe that he deserved to be loved and that he would eventually find someone able to see all the wonderful things about him and put him first.

She really wanted to tell him all those things, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything because she didn't know if she believed in those things anymore.

Unfortunately, although depressing, everything Chandler was saying actually made sense to her. She felt like everything he'd said applied to her experiences too well.

Monica couldn't help remembering how horrible she had felt after her break up with Richard. She had actually wished to stop existing to make the pain go away. She had been exactly where Chandler was now, and she couldn't really disagree with him on the fact that the good part had been too brief when compared to the heart wrenching part.

She had a blank stare too now. Oh, great, her intent on cheering her friend up didn't work at all, and now she felt miserable too.

When her head turned back to Chandler, Monica saw how dark his eyes looked. He was never a crying kind of guy, but he exuded sadness whenever he was upset. She could almost see a gray, heavy cloud over his head. She winced. For a second, she thought about Richard and his state of mind after their break up. By seeing how inconsolable Chandler was, singing romantic songs and clinging to a piece of clothing from his loved one, Monica couldn't help believing that after they parted ways, Richard probably never looked as pitiful as Chandler did at the moment. She reprimanded herself for thinking that; it was stupid and a little selfish, but she couldn't help wishing someone had loved her the way Chandler still loved Janice.

 _Okay, that's it. Nope, I refuse._ She suddenly stood up, startling Chandler, then tugged on his hand, forcing him to stand up and leave record, headphones and shoe on the barcalounger. Monica knew he was and would be devastated for a long time; there was nothing she could say to make him feel better. However, she also knew that, if she could help, he wouldn't be drowning in self-pity all by himself, not when there were loving friends and delicious pizza waiting for him next door. Her final decision on what to do came as a hug.

She could tell he was a little uncomfortable at first, not really getting what she was doing that for. His confusion only lasted two seconds, and soon he allowed himself to be involved in her tiny little body. Her arms wrapped around his neck; his arms wrapped around her waist. His hands clung onto her back – that was his way of begging for some comfort without using any words. For all she knew, he could have all of it.

After a while – how long after, she wasn't quite sure –, they finally broke apart. He still looked completely heartbroken, but Monica had already made peace with the fact that he would be strong enough to endure his grief.

"Let's eat some pizza?" Her hand was still linked to his.

"Okay."

And she pulled him over, leading him to her apartment.


	12. Chapter 12

**_Author's note: once more, thank you for the reviews!_**

 ** _Langford90: hahah I hate Richard too much to have him appear here ;D_**

 ** _This chapter is dedicated to Babatomyfriends haha I hope it's not too weird, and you guys like it :D_**

* * *

 _Late 1997_

Seriously, what was it about?

It wasn't like he expected her to be in love with him or something, but the fact that she had laughed too hard at his "joke" unnerved him way more than he was willing to admit (never mind the fact that it was more of an honest offering than a joke in the first place). That's why he just couldn't let it go. He knew it was sad and pathetic, bordering on begging, but he could not let it go. He had kept pestering Monica for the past two days, using any opportunity to try to prove – unsuccessfully – than she was wrong and he was, in fact, boyfriend material.

Seriously though, what was it about? Was he hideously unattractive? He didn't thought of himself as a handsome man, but it wasn't like he looked like Quasimodo. He was aware of the fact that he wasn't the most mature man on Earth but, come on, just a year ago he was having a serious relationship! He was okay as a candidate for a good boyfriend, wasn't he? Good enough to count as a future back up, at least. Sure, he made an awful lot of jokes, but if anything that was his charm! His thing! Not something to deem him unlovable.

He had spent the previous night and even a good part of the morning telling her she was missing out on foot massages and soda refills for not having him as a boyfriend; Monica didn't seem to be bothered enough by any of that. After Phoebe had gotten home from her night breaking and entering, telling them she'd just found out her namesake was actually her mother who had abandoned her, she'd summoned Monica for a private conversation, leaving Chandler and Joey behind with their lingering questions.

"Hey, you guys wanna go to the beach?" Monica had asked after coming back, telling the guys Phoebe just needed some rest.

Chandler saw an opportunity in that.

"Asking me out for a date by the sea? Very romantic, aren't ya?"

Monica just stared at him blankly. She didn't need to say "really?" out loud because her eyes did it for her.

"I said you _guys_." She added anyway.

Chandler ignored Joey's snickers. "I'm not here to judge kinks, so it's okay if you enjoy being watched."

Monica rolled her eyes. While they gathered their stuff to leave, he got a little pensive. Chandler figured asking for the reasons why she wouldn't date him wasn't the most effective way to approach it (was anything effective at all? Maybe not, but he still wasn't ready to let it go); that's when he started talking about hypothetical scenarios.

"Okay, imagine you could choose from all the liars and cheaters you've dated before and me. Who would you pick?" He asked while opening the door for the three of them to leave.

"Chandler, I'm not going to date one of my best friends just because men are pigs."

The two miles of walking allowed them to talk about other things. When they got to the beach, Monica took off her shirt and lay down on a towel. Chandler mimicked the action, lying down himself, and Joey just left to do something with the sand. He wasn't paying much attention to his roommate, as his mind was still trying to come up with scenarios that would make her admit that he could be boyfriend material after all.

"Alright, I'm rich. Filthy rich. I have enough money to buy three restaurants and have you run them all. Would you go out with me?"

"Are you calling me a gold digger?"

He stuttered. "N-no!"

"Well, it looks like it." She arched her eyebrows as if it was the most obvious fact in the world. "Besides, Pete was rich. If that was what I'm looking for, I would still be with him, you know?"

Right. Pete was a millionaire. Well, maybe another perspective…

"Okay. I go to the gym, and I'm a very hunky, muscular man. Would you go out with me?"

"Now you're saying that I'm shallow?"

"Right, like you wouldn't want to date some hot guy."

"Yes, that would be nice, but, again, it's not what I'm looking for."

"Okay, let's say I want to get married and have tons of babies." Monica just stared at him incredulously. "Okay, I can't even go through with that." He let a shaky breath out, scared shitless by his own made up scenario.

Monica laughed out loud. "Chandler, it's not about what I like in guys. It's just that you're Ch-"

"I'm Chandler. I know. I agree that's a stupid name."

She sighed, looking exhausted. "It's not about the name. You're my friend. That would be weird. We've been over this."

Yeah, they had been over this. Still…

Chandler looked at her as she closed her eyes, letting her head hang, enjoying the gentle touch of the morning sun. She looked beautiful – and way out of his league, as usual. He just wanted to hear one affirmative response though. Just something that came from her mouth that indicated that a girl like her dating a guy like him wouldn't be that ridiculous.

"All right. There's a nuclear holocaust. I'm the last man on Earth. Would you go out with me?"

He could tell she wasn't invested in the discussion anymore.

"Eh."

 _Whoa, was that an affirmative response?_

"I've got canned goods." And she showed him a big smile. Well, at least he got _that smile_ out of all the silliness.

Interrupting that bizarre moment, Joey called out to them, showing off the big hole he had just dug in the sand, beaming with pride. Joey was a just a huge, manly child, wasn't he?

Chandler and Monica got up, taking their time to appreciate the random piece of art by the Italian artist Tribbiani until a wave came closer. Joey mourned his work being deformed by the seawater before Monica let out a soul piercing screech, startling both men.

"Jellyfish sting! Oh, it hurts! It hurts! It hurts!"

The two of them crowded her, trying to come up with solutions and offering help. The way she loudly damned all the jellyfish indicated how much pain she was feeling. Joey sounded far too chilled when he remembered something about The Discovery Channel and peeing on the place that hurts to kill the pain. _The more you know._

"Well, forget it. It doesn't hurt that… baaaaad!"

Joey even offered the hole for some privacy and Monica really must have been in some serious pain as she took the offer and got into it. The water in it was only ankle deep so she could do… her… business… with no real obstacle.

Chandler definitely didn't want to see _that_. He assumed Joey didn't either as both turned their back to the hole at the same time.

To think just a few minutes earlier he was trying to get this woman to admit she could someday date him. Now he didn't even want to look at what she was doing.

Not much time had passed (although the few minutes had felt like forever) when they heard her faint little voice utter "you guys". It was almost heartbreaking. When they turned around, they were faced with a very forlorn Monica. "I-I don't think I can bend that way."

Was she really suggesting one of them do it? He didn't have to dwell on that thought much as Joey hopped into the hole with a serious, nearly military demeanor. He looked like he was going to the war. Chandler just watched the scene unfold with a horrified expression. Monica turned around in the hole, not really wanting to see Joey's thing. The angles were generous enough to allow Chandler to see what was going on without seeing Joey's thing (he didn't want to see it either). Joey put his shorts down and rummaged inside his trunks.

 _Here we go_ , Chandler braced himself.

Nothing came out.

Chandler could predict what would happen next.

He suddenly became a very pious man, praying for all the good entities worshiped around the globe that what he thought would happen next would never actually happen.

Still no pee coming out.

 _No no no no no, please, no._

And yet, nothing.

Monica was breathing hard. "Joey, what's going on?" She asked expectantly, hope keeping her in the same position.

Joey craned his neck to look at Chandler with pleading eyes. Somehow he felt like explaining to him before explaining to her. Chandler _knew_ why but _no, please, god, no._ "I think I've got the stage fright."

 _Oh, dear Lord, no, I beg of you._

"I guess you'll have to do it." Joey finally announced the words Chandler would never forget for the rest of his life.

His roommate didn't even wait for an answer. He pulled his shorts back on, and climbed out of the hole, pushing Chandler inside right after that.

Monica turned her head briefly to look at him – a different pair of pleading eyes. She was in pain though; he couldn't hold it against her.

"Can you just do it, please?" She begged, almost out of breath.

 _Okay, she's my friend and she needs help. I gotta do this._

Joey was up there, watching the whole thing with his hands resting on his hips. Suddenly, he had a stern expression on, looking like some sort of crude general. He knew from watching before that the angles would prevent his friend from seeing his thing and Monica was already with her back turned to him.

Everything was set.

 _Just do it,_ he thought to himself while he dreadfully slowly pulled his shorts down. _I can do it._

"Do it!" Joey's unexpected, harsh scream made him jump. "Be a man! Step up! Do it! Come on, do it!"

So much for using the hole for privacy. He could feel the stares coming from other people taking a walk on the beach – _judging_ stares. They all probably thought he was going to have sex with Monica right there while having a very loud man watching. Talk about kinky. Chandler didn't know if letting them think _that_ was better than letting them know what he was actually going to do.

"Do it now! Do it! Do it! Do it! Do it now, come on! Don't be a baby, be a man! Do it!" With Joey's constant screaming, he let out his little guy. Gathering all the strength he'd never known he had, he finally let the warm liquid out. It didn't need much for Monica to make an agonizing noise followed by a much relaxed sigh. He gathered his tools back inside his trunks, thanking the universe for that moment had come to an end.

When Monica looked back at him and they locked eyes, he could tell it had been as terrible for her as it had been for him. They got out of the hole, and Joey looked at them, seriousness gleaming in his eyes – now he looked like a soldier who came back from the war. Chandler rolled his eyes; _he didn't even go the battle!_

"Let's never tell anyone." Monica offered.

"It's a promise." Chandler followed.

"It's between us and the sea." Joey concluded.

They gathered their stuff, ready to leave the battlefield. Walking silently side by side, they carried the scar of the most horrifying experience they had ever shared. For a second Chandler wondered if this was the universe responding his questions about dating Monica in a very sick and twisted way.

Well, now she had a damn good reason.


	13. Chapter 13

_Late 1998_

They'd even tried to go for Ross and Emily's honeymoon suite in hopes of having sex there, but just like everything else that night, it hadn't worked out. Was it really that wrong if they had sex just one more time? Maybe two or three times, if they got lucky, just to make sure they could get it out of their system before getting home again?

As much as they'd been willing to take any chance to do that, they hadn't been able to.

After all the time she'd been alone, enduring that horrible dry spell that lasted a whole year, doing it with Chandler had been unexpected – but, more than anything, it had been unexpectedly good. It had been amazing, actually. She wondered if it had been the amount of pent up sexual tension plus the alcohol writing up her memories, but she knew she hadn't been that drunk the moment she'd thrown herself on him, and definitely not drunk at all when they'd done it time after time until they'd reached the impressive count of seven rounds.

Seven times in one night. How was that even possible?

No matter how good that had been though, it was now over, and she didn't even have the chance to properly say goodbye to that magic.

She just wanted to do it with him once more. Just one more time, really, so that she could enjoy it thoroughly before fully resigning.

To make things worse, they were sitting side by side in the airplane, and she could swear his scent was doing things to her stomach. Monica couldn't tell if that was due to how unbelievably horny she was or if he just smelled that good. She stole some discreet glances too – his hair looked so boyish, his face was so adorable, and his eyes were shining brightly; had he always looked that good? She'd always found him handsome, especially when wearing a suit, but somehow he looked amazing now even in a plain blue shirt.

She just wanted to touch him all over; to straddle him and to make love to him right there in that seat. _Ugh, get a hold of yourself._ Monica fanned her dirty thoughts out, finding them too inappropriate even if locked inside her brain.

Exasperated and embarrassed by her own thoughts at first, at the moment she was just numb with frustration, realizing that she couldn't have what she wanted so badly.

With a blank stare dominating her features, her lips moved on their own accord. "You know, maybe it's best that we never got to do it again." She didn't really mean to say that out loud.

Monica concluded that he was probably having similar thoughts since his reply came out too quickly. "Yeah, it kinda makes that one night special."

 _No, Chandler, you're not supposed to agree with me! Come up with something, please._

As if he'd heard her silent plead, he turned to her excitedly. "You know, technically, we still are over international waters."

 _Now we're talking!_

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom. Maybe I'll see you there in a bit?"

"'Kay!"

And she left.

When Monica got into the bathroom, she was already overthinking everything; there were too many feelings leaving her in a state of turmoil. Faintly, almost at the back of her mind, she could feel some embarrassment for being that desperate to the point of offering to have sex in the bathroom of a plane. That train of thought derailed way too soon as she could tell Chandler was as desperate as she was. Then, she started getting anxious. Would they finally be able to do it one last time? What if that wasn't enough though? What if after doing it in that crazy way, they ended up wanting it even more? That second train of thought didn't succeed either; she was ready to throw all reason out the window to favor one last session of hot, passionate sex. She just wanted to feel his touch again, his fingertips on her bare skin. She wanted to touch him all over too, to lick him all over, to kiss him fervently. Oh, yeah, that was the most prominent thought inside her mind at the moment. Everything else was background noise. The bathroom felt tight and hot already, as her mind was filled with memories from the previous night.

Oh, dear lord, everything had felt so good.

She just wanted it all over again.

 _What's taking him so long?_ She wanted to prance around the space to relieve some anxiety, but there was no room for that. The bathroom was indeed very small. _Oh, my god, Chandler, just get your ass here already before I get caught._

Monica took a seat at the closed toilet, rubbing her palms in expectation. She could predict how everything would go down. He would get in there, surreptitiously, and right at the moment he would lock the door, she would throw herself at him. His hands would then travel around her back, one of them resting on her hip, the other one going up to get a hold of her hair. Oh, yeah, he'd tugged at her hair so hard during their lovemaking – he would definitely do it again. Maybe, because of the confined space, he would turn her around and kiss her shoulders with her back glued to his chest. She could probably moan already just by picturing his teeth nibbling on her earlobes. His hands would caress her breasts over the fabric of her dress and she would feel the bulge forming inside his pants as her ass pressed against his groin. She was sure his hands would eventually go down her legs and start bunching her dress up until they were above her waist, then he would definitely push her panties down while unzipping his own pants and…

 _Okay, I need to stop that now._ Monica cursed herself for letting her thoughts get the best of her like that. _Seriously though, what's taking him so long?_ She totally lost track of time because of her own fantasies, but at least fifteen minutes had passed already, she was sure of that. Maybe even more than just fifteen minutes; she couldn't even guess how long she had been there, waiting for him. Things would get weird if she stayed there for much longer. Suddenly, all the desire became annoyance. Why didn't he come over? Did he regret the idea? Why didn't he warn her? Getting up and straightening her clothes, she braced herself to get out of there and face him.

When she got closer to their row, she noticed Joey sitting next to Chandler. The actor caught sight of her and immediately made a confused remark on her previous absence. "Wow, you've been in the bathroom for like a half-hour."

"I know", she replied through gritted teeth, pointedly eyeing Chandler.

"Had the beef-tips, huh?"

She wanted to smack both the men who were looking up at her – well, not really. The pained look on Chandler's face made it very clear that he was as upset as she was about not being able to follow her before.

"Joey, can I have my seat?"

"Actually, Monica, would you mind staying in mine for a while? I'm having a very serious discussion with Chandler right now. It's about my career."

What could she say to that? Chandler's eyes obviously begged her to say no and just kick Joey out of there, but she couldn't come up with any good excuse as to why she couldn't sit somewhere else.

She sighed. "Alright."

"Thank you. So, let's say I can get myself taller in the future…" Monica overheard that piece of conversation and wondered if Joey was actually saying those words; too frustrated to really care, she just moved on to his seat, plopping there, allowing sadness to wash all over her. Hopefully, she would make a good use of the remaining hours of the trip to make peace with the fact that there was no chance left for them to do it again.

* * *

"That night meant a lot to me too, and it wasn't because I was in a bad place or anything, it just… meant a lot to me 'cause… you're really hot." The suspense he used to announce that silly little sentence killed her. How did he do it? She had no idea, but he'd always managed to make her laugh, even if whatever he was saying was stupid. She'd been completely scared of things getting awkward, but here they were – she had been able to thank him for being there for her that night, and he had been able to say she was hot in a way that was both sweet and funny. Her laughter meant more than amusement – it meant relief. And that relief felt really good. They hadn't lost each other after all. "Is that okay?"

"That's okay." She answered through giggles.

"And I'm cute too?"

She looked at him incredulously. _He's ridiculous,_ she thought, but in the sweetest way possible. If she were to be completely honest, yes, he was more than cute; he was the cutest ever. She wouldn't give that much away so soon though.

"And you're cute too." She once more answered through giggles.

"Thank you", he concluded as they wrapped their arms around each other. That was another thing not to worry about – she totally wanted to rip his clothes off and make love to him right there on the kitchen floor, but they were still able to hug in a sweet, friendly away, without it being awkward.

He said something about needing to unpack and left with a soft "bye" (with the most adorable face in the world, Monica added this piece of information to the scene before her eyes).

She was left alone in her living room.

Did things really need to end up like this? Couldn't they take this opportunity and do it again? She wanted that so much – she couldn't remember the last time she wanted something with this much intensity. And she was not a woman to give up on _anything_ she wanted. That's what made her move forward. She wasn't really thinking; her movements came by instinct.

After some steps though, the seriousness of it all hit her like a truck. She remembered his little truthful joke about her being hot, his cheeky little grin when he asked her if he was cute too, and their comfortable, friendly hug. Those things might seem trivial to the untrained eye, but Monica knew better: they were actually huge, and much more meaningful than the sexual desire burning up inside her. What if she risked all of that by going after him? What if doing it in New York ruined their almost-ten-year-old friendship?

However, more importantly, what if she got over herself and had enough nerve to go after him only to get shut down? How would she ever be able to recover from that? Not only things would get awkward; it would all be her fault. She wouldn't admit it to herself (because that would mean admitting to losing the battle before it even started) but the truth was: she didn't have that much courage.

The reasonable conclusion was to back off. Let it go. It was killing her inside, but it was much better than risking what they had.

As she turned around, she heard the door open and close. She snapped back, knowing exactly who she would find there.

And, indeed, there he was. With furrowed brows and hitched breathing, he looked concerned – but above all, he looked unbelievably, wonderfully, extraordinarily attractive. She felt drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Those shiny eyes never looked that blue. His hands never looked that soft – it was like her skin already craved his touch. Before he said anything, she shivered with anticipation.

Monica was so ready to say _yes, oh, god, yes, a hundred times yes, I don't care what you say, I don't care if you come up with a lame excuse, I don't care about the future, I don't care about being in control, I just want you so bad_. She prayed they could allow themselves to feel whatever it was they were feeling – not acting on that feeling suddenly sounded like a horrible, stupid mistake.

All these thoughts bundled up inside her brain during the half second it took for him to say something.

"I'm still on London time – does that count?"

Her lips didn't waste any minute. "Oh, that counts."

"Oh, good." And they rushed to each other; their lips crashing, their hands going places, their bodies struggling to get closer – almost closer than physically possible.

They craddled each other's head in their hands as they stopped the kissing to register all the sensations – and also to breathe in some air. They looked at each other. Their eyes were glistening when they locked, and they smiled and moaned before resuming their first – of, hopefully, many – kisses in their own home.

Her head was spinning. Her ears were ringing. Everything felt new and risky and exciting and scary – but more than anything, everything felt right.


	14. Chapter 14

_Early 1999_

He wished he didn't have to celebrate his ten month anniversary with Monica in a hurried dinner with no dessert; he was thrilled nevertheless.

So much time had passed since their first night in London, and he couldn't believe it. Sure, ten months in a relationship wasn't something so extraordinary for normal people (he stressed the word _normal_ whenever he wanted to create a contrast between other people and himself). That was him though. Chandler Bing, the guy who initially ran from commitment, and who, eventually, was able to put some effort into being with someone but could never make it work. It was still too soon to consider what they had something successful – Chandler was still wary of the fact that anything could happen to screw with his happiness. He had been able to live in the moment though. Somehow, Monica had that kind of effect on him.

They got caught up in terrible flirting and just as terrible tv show appearances earlier and were only now arriving at the fancy restaurant. Monica was smiling brightly, looking stunning in her red dress – she always looked amazing in red. They got there holding hands then disentangled their fingers to take their seats at a secluded table.

After a quick look at the menu, they'd told the waiter what they wanted to order.

"That'll be all, thanks." Monica showed a big smile to the stranger, and Chandler eyed the interaction playfully.

"So, are there enough men around here for you to practice your flirting skills?" He asked when the waiter left. Monica just rolled her eyes, even though her smile remained unfazed.

"Will you stop? You were the one flirting with the delivery pizza girl!"

"I was not!"

"Yes, you were. Point is: that's okay."

"We've been over that…"

"Yeah, I know, things are different for men and women, blah blah blah" If the conversation at the moment wasn't so light, he might have taken offense on her sarcastic, dismissive tone "It doesn't matter anyway, it's not like I want to date some random guy."

"Well, you have been dating some random guy for ten months now, you should get your priorities straight."

She shook her head, smiling at him. Her hand travelled across the table, reaching his. Her fingers crawled around his own and stopped with a soft squeeze.

"Ten months! Can you believe that?" Chandler just stared at her while she said that, mesmerized by how adorable she looked.

"That you've been dating for ten months? Yeah, totally. That I've been dating for ten months? Yeah, that's a head scratcher."

"Why is it unbelievable for you and not for me?"

"Because it's you and me."

"Chandler, what's that supposed to mean?" She arched her eyebrow.

"I always manage to screw everything up. I'm very glad I haven't though."

"So far, you've been pretty good actually."

"Oh yeah?" And he leaned in to kiss her.

They didn't keep that topic up. Monica asked for the menu again; she had already ordered her meal, but this time she just wanted to take a look at the options. They were at Jean Georges, yet she felt like analyzing the dishes anyway. Her eyes were sparkling as they rolled around the pages. Chandler took the time to observe her, listening to her eventual comment on the offered meals. He knew next to nothing when it came to cooking, but he enjoyed listening to her talk about it. Everything in Monica's life and behavior was permeated with either cynicism or passion. He loved both.

When she put the menu down, apparently done with the critique, they just stared at each other. Chandler couldn't remember a moment in his life in which he'd been happier than he was now. Silently, as if in tune, they leaned in for a kiss again, beaming with pride when they pulled back. _We've made it!_ , Chandler thought over and over again as he enjoyed the company of his favorite person in the world.

"You know, you're my longest relationship too." He was so lost in thought he didn't register her sudden statement very well.

"Huh?"

"Of all the guys I went out with, I only had two serious boyfriends before you, and I've been with you longer than I've been with both of them – combined." She said that alternating between glancing at him shyly and lowering her head, as if to hide embarrassment.

 _That's crazy_ , Chandler thought, _and these guys are stupid. How do you date Monica Geller and let her go?_

"You're biased", she replied with a face that looked as red as her dress. Apparently, he'd said that out loud, even though he hadn't meant to.

"Well, I only had two serious girlfriends before you, and I've been with you longer than I've been with both of them, combined." He said with a cheeky grin that made her smile even more. "I'm glad I'm your longest relationship."

"I'm glad I'm your longest relationship too."

His hand grazed her thigh, and as he gave her another quick peck on the lips, the meals arrived.

* * *

As expected, they had to leave way too soon, but Chandler cut himself some slack. He'd done the best he could have to make that reservation, and Monica seemed to have enjoyed the dinner anyway. It was still too early to go back home, and Chandler wanted to spend more time alone with his girlfriend on their anniversary. He assumed Monica wanted the same, since she enthusiastically agreed to take a walk instead of going home right away.

They strolled around the streets, walking aimlessly, holding hands and talking. The talking was always amazing. Chandler thought of all the people who he had crushed on during his life, and the girls who had had the biggest effect on him were the ones he could talk to. Even Janice, in her annoying ways, had been smart and fun enough to talk to. Kathy had also been smart, and they used to spend hours talking about many things. With Monica, it was the next level. Not only she was an amazingly intelligent woman, the things she had to say were always interesting and pointed, and the fact that they had been friends for so long allowed them to talk about nearly everything. The connection was incredible.

Since they hadn't had dessert, they got into a coffeehouse to get something sweet. Monica ordered a brownie, and he got a cup of coffee. As she ate her snack, Chandler got lost in thoughts again. He remembered that moment in the restaurant, when she announced that he was her longest relationship. Yeah, he'd been there, so he originally knew all her boyfriends and potential lovers. He concluded again that all those guys were complete idiots; they'd all treated her pretty badly – well, not all, but most of them. He thought it was unfair that Monica had to endure so much heart break. She didn't deserve it at all! She was great; she was loving, and caring, and devoted. She was fun to be with, and she was unbelievable in bed. She was also hot, so very hot. She had the whole package, but, for some reason, things hadn't been easy for her when it came to love.

Chandler also remembered a moment from a month earlier, when Monica tried to win a Hottest Couple Contest – a contest that was pretty much only happening inside her brain. Chandler knew that their friends, as much as he loved them, didn't care much about their relationship. Phoebe could care even less. Monica had tried to convince her, of all people, that their relationship was as hot and fiery as ever, and it wasn't like they were cold and icy; it's just that things had calmed down after six months together. Chandler had found himself to be surprisingly okay with that. In fact, he was so okay with everything that he couldn't really understand Monica's distress. Now that he thought about it, it was crystal clear. Monica had only experienced the honeymoon phase with her (two) previous boyfriends, and things are very hot during the honeymoon phase. He always expected things to eventually calm down though, so getting past the exciting beginning and adjusting to a relaxed, safe schedule made him happy and relieved. For Monica, it was like foreshadowing doom. Because of all the guys who only wanted her body, she probably still thought that having sex over and over again equaled being in love. Chandler could see now that she probably feared that getting past the beginning meant getting closer to the end, hence, she believed she had to do something about it.

It was sad that a woman like _her_ could feel so insecure. He was even happier for being able to calm her down in moments like that. If anything, he wanted her to understand that he was not willing to ever let her go.

"What?" Her eyebrows were arched but she was still smiling. _Don't her cheeks hurt by now?_ , Chandler asked himself, smiling too. All the thinking probably made him look tense.

"Nothing." His hand framed her face. "Just thinking about the best ten months of my life."

She bit the insides of her mouth before letting out a huge grin, and he leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"Let's get going?"

* * *

When he got home just to grab his pajamas and bathrobe, he saw Rachel sitting in Joey's barcalounger.

"Hey. Where's Joey?"

"Hey there! He went to the airport with his grandmother." Chandler nodded absentmindedly. "What are you doing here? Go celebrate your anniversary!"

"I was just going to get my PJs." He answered excitedly, looking like a little kid. Rachel smiled largely too.

"Well, yeah, I figured, and since I don't want to hear anything _gross_ tonight, I'm just gonna stay here. Joey let me stay, I assume you'd be okay about it too."

* * *

They were still a little sweaty from the sex. The moment Chandler had walked back into apartment 20, Monica had been all over him. Rachel had left her a note, letting her know she could have fun with her boyfriend in the empty apartment all night long. They hadn't wasted a minute then, getting to her bedroom, discarding all clothes and making love passionately – that was the best way to celebrate an anniversary, after all.

Her head rested on his chest and his arms wrapped around her. Chandler breathed in her scent – he could almost feel his south regions getting back to life just by sniffing her delicious smell.

"So, I'm your longest relationship. What else can you give me?"

She moved her head to look up at him with an incredulous face.

"You're never satisfied, aren't you?" She pinched his side.

"Hey, it's just nice hearing good things about yourself from your girlfriend, y'know?" She shook her head, getting back to his chest. "Come on, tell me something nice."

The way her fingers played with his chest hair told him she was willing to compliment him some more. He knew she probably wouldn't look at him while saying anything though.

"Well, we've already established that you're the best sex I ever had."

"Oh yeah, we have." He smiled blissfully at that, holding her much closer. Puffs of air left her mouth and tingled his chest as she laughed a little.

"We've also established that you're the biggest."

 _Life's so good right now_ , Chandler let himself dive into good memories and thoughts.

"You're also the guy I knew the longest before dating." He was just humming responses by now. Even though he was the one who had prompted that little talk, he was far too tired to keep it up. "…most comfortable with." He wasn't registering much of what she was saying any more. Falling asleep already, he faintly heard her last sentence, probably a closure to her little lost speech. "…and you're the person I love the most."

Bordering unconsciousness, his instinct made his body move by itself. Eyes closed, he held Monica even more tightly in his arms, then kissed her hair, mumbling obliviously. "You're the person I love the most too, honey."

He thought he heard a gasp, but wasn't sure. The only thing he was certain of was that her grip on his waist felt tighter too, and her body felt even warmer than before. He drifted off as he enjoyed an intimacy he had always thought he would never have.


	15. Chapter 15

**_Author's note: Once more, I wanna thank everyone who reads this and takes the time to leave a review. It means a lot to me. :D_**

 ** _Chapter 15, only more 6 to go. I'm getting there haha_**

* * *

 _Early 2000_

She knew she had a lot of bad qualities. More than anyone in the world, Monica knew all the things about herself that could drive people crazy. Admitting that these things were real was never an option for her though. The moment she admitted to those things, she was admitting that it was hard to love her; she was deeming herself undeserving of love. No, no way, she couldn't do that.

That's why she tried to prove she could be a kook when people told her she was too uptight. She tried her best to prove people wrong whenever they pointed out something in her that she hated. She would never tell anyone that she hated that aspect in herself; her incessant strategy was to prove to people, and to herself, that she was not like that at all.

Phoebe had picked Rachel. Obviously, Monica wasn't attracted to Phoebe. It was just that… she'd picked Rachel, not because she thought Rachel was more of her type or anything like that, but because there was something in Monica that made Phoebe pick somebody else. That brought back too many memories, and, deep inside, she knew that triggering the same discussion over and over again would just prove Phoebe's initial point. She couldn't control herself though. She couldn't even try to stop herself. She just had to go over that topic until people agreed with her.

That literally had made her lose sleep. It was ridiculous – at least she'd been able to vent about it with Chandler, especially because he'd had a just as ridiculous problem making him lose sleep too. While he'd complained about Ross stealing his jokes, she'd complained about not being picked in a hypothetical scenario. No judgment, just sharing.

She was working on arguments to convince Phoebe she'd been wrong by calling her high maintenance when she was called out by Ross and Chandler. The boys had decided she would be a fair judge to choose who had most likely come up with that stupid joke. Being a little on edge, she called a spade a spade and just bluntly told them that someone should be blamed instead of credited for that terrible cheap piece of comedy, storming out of the living room to get back to her private work. After Ross finally left, she came out of her room, facing Chandler, who still looked a little embarrassed.

"You don't think I'm high maintenance, do you?"

She decided to ignore the way he flinched, probably scared of telling the truth. Well, the truth was: she was not high maintenance anyway, so why would he be scared of telling her that? That's how she reasoned everything while she waited for his much too late answer.

"N-no?" She also chose to ignore his insecure tone and his stuttering.

"Okay then, you're going to help me tell Phoebe that."

"What?" He looked at her with a slightly shocked face. One more thing to ignore.

"You heard what I said." She walked towards him – he stumbled backwards. "I know you're totally capable of using your own words to tell her that I'm not high maintenance, but I actually came up with something." She had an almost scary smile on when she showed him a notebook page with some writing on it. Just a few words, not a whole speech at all. Nothing serious, really, just some jotted down ideas. Musings, if you will. Easily memorable. Something to back his own ideas up.

"O… kay…" He said as he accepted the task, reading the notes with some amusement and a great deal of visible anxiety.

She was sure Phoebe and Rachel would be downstairs at the coffeehouse. It would be just perfect. The couple would show up, and she would announce that Chandler had something to say about her not being high maintenance. Their friends would be impressed, and Phoebe would finally admit that she was wrong by labeling Monica that. Everybody would laugh and small talk for a while and she would finally be at peace.

As they arrived there, she could see Chandler rehearsing the words. _He just feels safer backing up his own thoughts using my ideas_ , Monica told herself.

He recited the whole thing, having a little bit of trouble with the generosity of spirit part – why though? That was one of the easiest, truest parts!

Instead of having her friends convinced, she watched Rachel call Chandler's talking "the best fake speech she'd ever heard", while Phoebe shrugged, claiming to having heard better.

Monica urged Chandler to defend himself and say the whole thing was his idea. He seemed to have tried so hard to memorize the words, he didn't know what to say. She wanted to disappear the moment he admitted in front of her friends that she was, in fact, a little high maintenance.

Was that it? So everybody really thought she was that difficult of a person to live with? Even her boyfriend, the one person she loved the most, the one person who lived with her, the one who spent almost every hour of every day with her… he thought that too?

Inwardly, she wanted to cry; however, as usual, when she was confronted with people who refused to see the good in her, she exhibited anger.

"You're on my list!", Monica threatened her boyfriend as she stomped her way to the big chair.

 _Screw them all, I don't need them_ , she bitterly thought as she crossed her legs with fury coming out of her every pore.

She honestly thought she would be fuming by herself the rest of the day, forced to let that one go and accept that even her closest friends _and_ boyfriend thought bad things of her, but then Chandler rapidly took off his coat as he started talking in an attempt to amend things.

"I'm sorry. You're not… you're not easy-going, but you're passionate" he kneeled in front of her "and that's good. And when you get upset about the little things, I think that I'm pretty good at making you feel better about that. And that's good too. So, they can say that you're high maintenance, but it's okay, because I like… maintaining you."

She could tell she was blushing. His little speech this time came from his heart, and she wasn't expecting that at all. Suddenly, nothing mattered. Phoebe's opinions certainly didn't faze her anymore. She was almost embarrassed by all the sweet things he'd said so casually, and how he'd said them all in front of other people. Instead of caring about their opinions, he seemed to have a priority on making her know he liked all of her – being high maintenance or not, Chandler loved her the way she was.

"I didn't even tell him to say that." She admitted to her crime from minutes before, hugging him and announcing he was off her list.

* * *

As soon as everybody left the apartment, Monica and Chandler sit closely at the couch, mindlessly watching something that was airing on TV. Chandler had an arm around her shoulders and she hugged his waist.

"Good to know you would rather date Joey," Monica teased, laughing as she watched him glare at her. His eyes moved back to the TV. She toyed with the hem of his shirt, debating herself whether or not she should bring that up. She decided she had to. "So… I'm a little high maintenance, huh?"

She could see his body tensing up and his eyes widening. Panic was clearly taking over as he slowly moved his head to her side, looking alarmed.

"No! N-no, it's not like—"

"Chandler, it's okay. Really." Because it was. "I am high maintenance, after all."

All her life, she felt like she needed to fight back when people told her she had some qualities that could be perceived as bad or annoying. She felt like she could only be loved if she convinced people that she was not any of those things.

It was actually the first time ever that someone had virtually told her "This thing you hate about yourself and you don't want to admit. Well, you're it, but I love you for that." It was a reality check, but a good one. A sweet one. A reassuring one.

She looked back at the almost two years they had been together – one year, eight months and twenty four days, to be more exact (Monica kept count of the hours too, but nobody needed to know that). She could tell she'd been feeling much more relaxed than before. Monica saw herself marrying this man, but she didn't feel the need to talk about it or even prepare herself for it. She just knew they would eventually do it, and she was more than okay about letting him take his time. Instead of being too aware of her own controlling behavior or wondering how he put up with her, she just knew that he loved her the way she was and was not willing to let her go.

That little moment at the coffeehouse was one more proof of that – and he had given her many by this point. She couldn't be happier.

"I'm glad you like maintaining me." She smiled as she said that.

"It's my dream job." He replied with a wide grin, leaning forward to plant a soft kiss on her lips.

She rested her head back on his chest, sighing contentedly as his hand stroked her arm.

It was finally okay to be who she really was.


	16. Chapter 16

_Mid 2001_

They had a no sex pact going on; they'd agreed on not sleeping together until the wedding. However, things were getting a bit steamy in the little hotel room they'd booked to stay the night in Las Vegas.

Chandler had expected everything to go terribly wrong but so far things had actually turned out pretty great. Monica had convinced him that not inviting his father would be a terrible mistake and, to be quite honest, he hadn't really believed her. He'd expected to be at least upset for seeing his father. Maybe his father would have been the one to get mad. Either way, he had been foreshadowing a worst-case scenario. The universe had proved him wrong though.

The moment he'd seen the sadness in his father's eyes about the prospect of not getting invited to his son's upcoming wedding day, Chandler had actually felt like a brutal man who had just slapped an elderly person undeserving of such violence. So, yeah, almost naturally, he'd put his grudge aside and had decided to make the invitation official. Charles Bing, or Helena Handbasket, had looked visibly touched, and as an aftereffect, Chandler had been moved too. Now that they were both invited, he could only hope his parents would not start a fight on his special day.

Monica had really wanted to know her future father-in-law. Chandler found that endearing – and a little crazy too. She'd been clearly disappointed for not being able to meet the drag queen superstar after the show – it seemed Helena Handbasket was unbelievably popular. Chandler thought that that was great. It had been too much of an emotional rollercoaster already; he sure could save some of that for another day.

Afterwards, they had come back to the hotel room, happiness and relief following their every step. Being in Vegas brought back memories from their first anniversary too, the one in which they had decided to get married in the spur of the moment. This time though, they were actually engaged. They had also just invited Chandler's father to the wedding. Everything felt too real. It was going to happen, and they were both equally excited about it. Too excited, in fact, to the point that lying together in a bed during a trip already felt like some sort of preview of a honeymoon. Once they unconsciously touched each other's skin, things got automatically heated.

It had started out with some innocent kisses, but at the moment Chandler was sucking on that spot under Monica's ear that made her moan much too loud – especially because, add to that, he had his hand cupping one of her breasts, squeezing it softly. Her fingers were buried into his hair, and her legs were already wrapped around his waist; her limbs moved on their own accord in moments like this. His lips met hers again, and he bit her lower one, enjoying the way the action made her gasp vividly.

"Ch-Chandler…" She struggled to voice the vocative; it would obviously be hard to say anything if she kept kissing him like that.

"Hm?" He hummed as his head traveled down to kiss and suck on the skin of her bare shoulder.

"What about– ah… the pact?" Monica argued weakly, but still didn't disentangle herself from him.

"I don't know what you're talking about." He said flatly before moving his head even more south and working his mouth on her cleavage. By the way she gasped at the contact of her skin with his tongue, he assumed she might have given up on the pact, too carried away by the moment to have enough will-power to control herself. He knew Monica well enough though; he was sure that as hard as it would be, she would eventually stop everything.

She grinded her body against him, his erection pressed against her as she enjoyed the way he licked her nipples, but soon enough he felt the grip on his hair getting tighter and his head getting pulled back forcefully by her hands.

"Chandlerrrrr," she whined, with pleading-slash-lustful-slash-regretful eyes. He just sighed.

"Okay. Let us not break the pact." His conclusion came as he plopped down beside her, breathing hard. "I might need a cold shower though."

"Oh, let's take a shower together!" She looked excited.

"Do you or do you not want to stick to the pact?" He reprimanded playfully, earning a pout.

"You're right."

Lying on their back, getting their breathing back to normal, the couple stared at the ceiling silently.

"I'm thinking about my father."

"I see you're trying really hard not to break the pact, honey." Chandler glared at her. "Whatever works for ya, big guy." She laughed at her own joke.

Chandler ignored the attempt at comedy and turned to his side, resting his head on the heel of his right hand.

"I really thought I would regret coming here. Now I feel that not coming here and not inviting him would have been a terrible mistake." He watched as she moved to her side too. He noticed she was biting the insides of her mouth, so he rolled his eyes. "It's okay, I admit it. You were right. You win."

"Yes!" She allowed herself to pump her fist in the air victoriously. He laughed at her antics.

Suddenly, her eyes softened and she used her hand to reach out to him, lovingly caressing his arm.

"Seriously though, I'm glad you listened to me. I know that compared to yours, my relationship with my parents sounds like a fairy tale" He chuckled. "But I understand, really. I understand the grudge and the anger. With that being said, we're not kids anymore. We've got to let it go so that we can truly move on."

"It's true."

"And our wedding day is much too big a moment for your parents not to be there. You don't need to get back at them like this. You would just regret it for the rest of your life."

"You're right." Chandler nodded, still looking pensive.

His life was turning into some sort of sappy, romantic movie. Not only he'd gotten the pretty girl, he'd been able to overcome his fears, one by one, because of her. Now he'd even taken the first step to amend his terrible relationship with his father. And, last but not least, he was actually happy about it. That was just too crazy. If someone had told him three years ago that all of this would have happened to him, he would have laughed out loud and called the person stupid – or mean. "Once again, thank you for making me do that."

"You're welcome," she beamed and leaned forward to kiss him softly. They broke apart, looking at each other, then closed the distance between their heads again, making a much deeper kiss happen.

"Okay, we need to sleep." Monica stated matter-of-factly as she abruptly stopped the kiss and turned around.

"Yep", Chandler agreed, pulling the sheet over their bodies.

Monica positioned herself with her back on Chandler's chest, and he sighed as his arms wrapped around her protectively. It was much too risky for the pact, getting that close while their bodies were still filled with arousal. Chandler needed that closeness anyway; he needed to feel the familiar, comfortable warmth coming from her body (and her constant support) before taking a stroll around dreamland.


	17. Chapter 17

_Mid 2002_

When you spend most of your life wanting something while not being able to get it, you get used to not having it. At least, that's Monica's reasoning as to how agitated she was feeling at the moment.

She'd always wanted kids. It had been her biggest dream since ever. She'd even had her kids' names picked out! She was now, however, scared of actually doing it.

When she'd brought it up to Chandler, she had only wanted to have some fun and freak him out a little, but turns out he'd been okay about it. She couldn't believe how calm and collected he'd looked the moment he'd told her he'd been thinking about it. Seriously, was the world upside down? She was freaking out about babies and Chandler was ready for it? What the hell was going on?

Monica had been telling the truth when she'd told him that, yeah, she'd always wanted to have kids but no one had ever wanted to have one with her. Now she could just have kids if she wanted to? That was way too unnerving, completely out of her comfort zone of being rejected and having her wishes turned down. She didn't know how to react.

Her mind was filled with all these conflicted, freaked out thoughts. She'd been wandering around the hospital in search of her husband to maybe talk about it, check if he'd actually meant what he'd said before. She was too afraid of getting her hopes high. Sure, the words that had left his mouth had sounded genuine, but what if he wasn't really ready? What if she started to dream about her family only to realize that Chandler had spoken much too soon? She wouldn't be able to deal with that. No way, that would be too devastating. As much as she wanted to give in to that hope of finally having her little family – God knew that was overdue – she still needed to check with him thoroughly.

And then she finally found him, and he was… looking at babies, a finger longingly touching the glass window while he stared at newborns with a soft smile on his face. Seriously, what the hell was going on?

"Good god, if you want a baby so bad, just go steal it!" The shock by seeing that scene made her blurt the words out carelessly, even though there was a nurse nearby that could hear that and totally misunderstand – and she totally did, the horrified expression on her face made it clear. Monica was too freaked out to care. Chandler not so much, as he shot his wife a reprimanding look, urging her away from his previous spot after assuring the nurse lady that the babies in sight were far too ugly for them.

She'd really wanted kids her whole life, but seeing things happening like that, possibilities for her dream future getting more and more real, that was too much. She couldn't help feeling scared.

"Since when are you so crazy about babies?" Because, seriously, the Chandler she'd known and loved for all those years had been able to imagine a future with her but not that comfortable with the idea of actually going for it.

"I'm not crazy about babies. I'm crazy about us."

Oh, boy. That took her by surprise. "What?", was the only thing she could mutter after such random, unexpected confession. He proceeded to tell her that he was, in fact, okay with the idea of having babies. Once more, he looked calm talking about it but, this time, instead of freaking her out, his demeanor effectively calmed her too. He even mentioned something about things not having to happen now; he said they could wait until she was ready. _Chandler_ was waiting for _Monica_ to be ready. Things had often happened the other way around; he was being the reasonable one now.

"Maybe I'm ready now." And maybe she really was. Hope was right there around the corner, creeping up her spine, setting camp over her head, and she was finally allowing it to. Not even his joking about not being ready was able to distress her.

Oh, God. Were they really trying?

"We're trying to get pregnant." He smiled broadly after saying that, his lips going for hers lovingly.

* * *

The miracle of birth sure was a snooze fest. It'd been too many hours already since Rachel arrived, supposedly ready to have her first child, but the baby hadn't come out yet. They had a lot of time to kill, they were in a building full of (clean) beds, and Monica was ovulating. She decided that everything was set for them to have their first official try.

They had found one private room, but got caught by a nurse. After finding another one, they'd been interrupted by the ghastly sound of Janice's laughter – there was no mood for sex after hearing something like that. They'd gotten out of the room to check on Rachel, maybe save her from the horrible experience she might have been in by being so close to a pregnant Janice. When they'd left, they were back at The Baby Making Mission, but the rooms had all been occupied.

Things were already getting in their way.

Rachel had finally given birth, and, just like seven years ago, the group gathered around another newborn Geller (Monica fought back the envy she felt towards her brother; he'd just had his second child, while she had none).

Seeing her best friend struggling to find a name for her daughter made Monica's heart break a little – a lot, actually, to the point where she'd given away the girl name she'd picked out for her future daughter. She loved the name, true, but she did love Rachel way more. The baby girl was clearly an Emma, Monica had to accept that – as much as she wanted to have a boy named Daniel and a girl named Emma, maybe picking out new names with Chandler in the future would be fun.

When she had her niece in her arms, it all hit her like a truck. The baby shared her blood, and soon she would have one of her own. She could picture two baby-Gellers playing around and growing up together; her heart was swelling. Now she could have a baby if she wanted to! And, hell, did she want to. She wanted it more than anything in the world. Her eyes were filled with tears – she always got emotional in situations like this, and she could care less about the audience looking at her.

"What's that, honey? You want a little cousin? You want a cousin right now?" Her eyes landed on Chandler. _Baby time, Bing!_ , she almost added out loud.

"Do I look like a giant sperm to all of you?" He asked, and she chuckled, delivering the newborn back to her mother's arms.

"Let's go, mister!" She walked around the bed to grab his hand, tugging at it nonchalantly, pulling him to the door.

"You guys are going to do it now?" Ross asked, horror all over his face, and Monica ignored him pointedly. She also ignored Joey's, Phoebe's and Rachel's smirks; Chandler just shrugged, allowing himself to be dragged out of the room.

"Okay, we need to find a new room." Monica was in mission mode, scanning all the places they were passing by. It seemed that all rooms were still occupied. Suddenly, all the energy that came over her just minutes earlier started to wear off. They had just decided to go and start a new family, and things were already getting in their way.

They found a storage room. Chandler half-jokingly, half-seriously suggested they use it, and Monica just took the offer like her life depended on it. When they got inside, she decided to keep the lights low – much less about setting a romantic mood, much more about hiding the insecurity on her face.

Chandler put his hands on each side of her hips, leaning down to kiss her slowly – they were about to have sex in a public place (again), this time with a purpose, but he still looked like he wanted to make it somewhat romantic. Monica's body must have felt too rigid under his hands because he suddenly stopped the kiss to shoot her a questioning glance. It was dark, but the light coming from the door gaps was enough to lighten his blue eyes – she assumed he could also see hers.

"Don't you think maybe this is too risky?" She asked, trying to stifle the fear that was back in full force inside her heart, nearly clogging her throat.

"I don't think so, we locked the door."

"Right."

He leaned down to kiss her again, and she sighed at the contact; she knew he knew her well enough to notice that that wasn't a we're-about-to-have-sex-and-I'm-aroused-sigh. He pulled back to look at her again. Chandler's eyes were squinting while he scrutinized his wife's expression – Monica felt like she was naked in the middle of a classroom full of kids in junior high.

"Monica, what's going on?" He finally asked, concern already drawing lines onto his forehead.

"Nothing." She tried to sound breezy and, as it usually happened when she tried to sound breezy, she sounded anything but.

"Monica." The way he stated her name like that made her feel like she was on trial. She didn't say anything; she just looked back at him, and let her emotions flow out of her eyes. Five seconds later, realization dawned on him. "Are you scared?"

"Would it be too weird if I said yes?" She almost mumbled, and this time the sigh came from him.

"I told you before, we don't need to do anything until you're ready."

"I am ready!" She didn't mean it to say it that loud. Chandler shushed her, and she clenched her jaw, cursing herself for not being able to control her voice. "I am, Chandler. I've been ready since forever. I'm just…"

"What?"

"We've just decided we're trying, and things are already getting in our way. First we get caught, then your ex shows up, then we can't find empty rooms. What if all those things were signs telling us not to do it? What if I'm not meant to have children after all?"

Chandler looked at her like she was crazy, but that somehow felt comforting. She wanted to hear that she was crazy; it would be much better than hearing that she was right and would never have a family – she had heard that way too often from her mother.

"Monica, you're right, we've just decided to have a baby and things are seemingly getting in the way." She trembled by hearing Chandler confirm her fears. She prayed he wasn't done yet. "However…" _Thank God._ "This is not our last chance. It's not like we have to do it here. Even if we're not able to do it here, we can do it when we get home. We can do it tomorrow. We can keep doing it for a whole week, and then again next month."

The corners of her lips started twitching, a tiny smile blooming upon her face.

He continued.

"Even if we don't get to do it here, it's okay, because we have enough time to try again and again." Her fingers were pretty much digging into the skin of his arms; his words were creating a storm inside her, but in a wonderful way. "We have a lifetime, Monica."

Her smile decided to show up, at last, and Chandler's grin made an appearance too. He leaned down again, kissing the lips of a much more relaxed Monica. The muffled sounds she was already making were more in tune with what they were about to do. Her hand scratched the hair on his nape as his tongue met hers.

"Now you're just gonna have a baby if you want to." He said against her lips, his hands moving up to unbutton her little white vest.

"Now _we're_ just gonna have a baby if we want to." She corrected him, earning her husband's beautiful smile.


	18. Chapter 18

**_Author's note: this chapter was a little challenging for me, as I'm trying to follow canon and Friends is that kind of tv show that makes it hard for us to decide how much drama we're allowed to haha I hope it's enjoyable anyway!_**

 ** _Once more, thank you very much for the reviews! I'm always unbelievably happy about them. :)_**

* * *

 _Late 2002_

"If what you and your wife have is so great, then why are you spending Christmas with me?"

That question seemed to have come out of nowhere, but it had actually hit Chandler really hard. He just stood there, suddenly drowning in all the wonderful memories he had shared with Monica. He remembered trying to get married in Vegas, sneaking around for about five months, their little discussion about the future... He loved her too much, and he hated his job probably with the same intensity in which he loved her. Why the hell was he sacrificing the time he could be spending with her going to that hole of an office to work with something he hated?

Wendy looked at him like he was crazy. Chandler internally wished she did find him too crazy – the way she was making a pass on him was just too surreal. Was she attractive? Sure, she was. But this was too weird. Leave it to his luck, being single for so long and not having any girl want him, only to have the second prettiest girl in Oklahoma ogling him when he was married and had a very jealous wife back home. Things never worked perfectly in his life.

"Are you okay?" Wendy asked, even though her voice dripped amusement instead of concern.

"I'm fine. It's just… you're right."

"What?"

"You're right. I shouldn't be here with you."

"Right." She answered seductively, walking towards him. He stumbled backwards. "Maybe I should pay you a visit in your hotel room."

He gently pushed her away for the second time that night. Seriously, this was getting ridiculous.

"I meant I shouldn't be in Tulsa. I should get back home."

She scoffed. "What, are you just gonna leave?"

"Yeah! I should be with my wife right now, not here." He smiled at that, probably expecting some support that would never come.

Wendy looked at him in disbelief then returned to her usual cold expression – though somehow Chandler felt like there was fire in her eyes. "I have to say you're getting sexier by the minute." She attempted to get closer to him again. Chandler couldn't understand what was up with that woman; the more he rejected her, the more she was all over him. He could see himself getting easily annoyed soon.

He sighed. "Will you stop? I told you this is not gonna happen."

"Why?"

"What do you mean why? I told you I'm m-"

"You're married, I know, but please." And then _she_ had _the nerve_ to look a little annoyed. "Let's have some fun! It's not like your wife would ever find out."

"This is not about her finding out."

"What is it about then?"

"It's about commitment." And his eyes were wide open when he heard his own voice saying that.

Commitment, yes, because he was committed to Monica.

It would probably sound foolish to anyone else – they've been married for over one year and a half, and dating for over three. Of course he was committed to her. One hundred percent committed to her. But being committed to Monica had become such a natural part of his life, it was almost like an instinct – so much like an instinct that he'd never thought about it like this. The fact that he was in a different state and still putting her first because of their commitment baffled him – it wasn't even an effort. It was truly, completely easy; it was natural.

More than ever, Chandler was very aware of his surroundings. He hated his job. He loved Monica. Work out that equation and the result was the fact that he'd been physically distancing himself from the best thing he'd ever had for four days a week to get immersed into the worst thing in his life. Everything was so wrong and messed up, Chandler felt some heat boiling at the pit of his stomach, adrenaline rushing through his veins, and he ignored Wendy's weird looks at him, grabbing his jacket and gathering his things into his briefcase.

"Are you really going to leave?" Wendy's cold demeanor diminished and she looked gentle for the first time since he'd met her.

"Sure as hell I am!" He made a show of waving goodbye as he headed for the door. Before leaving the room for good, he turned around only to find that woman standing there – it was a very sad scene, if he was to be completely honest. She was alone, in that empty grey room, a ridiculously big ham resting on the huge desk, paper scattered everywhere. She almost looked lost. "Look, I'm sorry for leaving you alone on Christmas, but I have to go. And, you know what? You should go too! If you hate this job as much as I do, just quit! Let's all quit! It's a stupid job, and we shouldn't be doing what we hate. I'm going to follow my dreams! You should do it too!"

He pointed at her with a lot of enthusiasm. She still looked at him like he was crazy; that didn't bother him in the slightest.

"Also, while we're at it, if you don't love your husband, just get a divorce or something." He grimaced while saying that, and Wendy's face changed a bit. Amusement was back.

"Now, that's some nice pep talk."

"I really should become a motivational speaker." He smirked, watching her laugh a little. "You're staying here?"

"Yeah… Tonight's your night of big decisions. I can't join you like that. One epiphany at a time, you know."

"Okay then." He finally moved from his spot by the door, ready to leave for real. He was doing it. He was going to quit his job. _New life, here I come!_ "Goodbye, Wendy."

"Goodbye, Chandler."

* * *

Even though his friends hadn't been too thrilled about his Christmas gifts, they had celebrated the fact that he'd been back. The gang had gathered around his living room while his wife had continually stolen him sweet glances and soft kisses. When everybody had left, he'd been scared of letting The Fear come back in full force; he'd been completely fine instead, going through the personals already in search of a new job.

As Chandler washed his hands after answering the call of nature, he looked at the mirror and saw the reflection of a much more mature man. When had things changed so much? He'd been cursing his bad luck all his life, feeling sorry for himself, believing that bad things happened to him while he had zero agency over them. Looking at things through different lenses showed him that, as obvious as it could sound, he actually owned his life. The best things he had had come with his doing and his decisions – the moment he'd decided to be on London time or when he'd realized he'd been ready to become a married man, just to name a few instances. He was no longer the sloppy young man he used to be known for. He was married to a wonderful woman, and they were trying to have a kid. The only thing in his life that hadn't been right was his career, and he had now finally put an end to it. To acknowledge that he was the only person who could change the course of his life had always felt frightening; now it felt amazing though.

When he left the bathroom, his smile was still hanging on his face, but it was replaced by a frown when he saw Monica.

His wife was sitting on the couch, legs and arms crossed; she was biting the insides of her mouth, but not in that adorable way she did whenever she was too embarrassed or trying to suppress a giggle – this time was one of those in which it looked like she wanted to yell and kick things. Chandler braced himself.

"Mon, are you okay?"

"You just missed a call from the second prettiest girl in Oklahoma."

"What?"

"A woman whose name is Wendy just called looking for you."

 _How does she even know my number?_ , that was the first thought on Chandler's mind.

"How does she even know your number?" Monica's voice echoed his own internal inquiry.

"I don't know." And he really didn't. Considering his acquaintance's ham-stealing and adulterous habits, he just assumed she would be able to – and willing to – do anything ill-advised. She probably did something illegal to get his number too. "Well, what did she say?"

"First, she told me I'm lucky to have a husband like you. Then she asked me to thank you and also to tell you that although she won't be quitting her job because she loves her career, she's getting a divorce."

 _Oh, boy, that sounds terrible_ , Chandler thought. He was sure Monica was probably thinking he'd been having sex with some random woman on a copying machine back in Tulsa. Everything was so ridiculous he didn't even know where to start the explanation. He even contemplated letting it go and not really talking about it but Monica was obviously having none of the sort.

"What should I expect next? Is she going to knock on our door tomorrow so that you two can continue your love affair?" Monica stood up, and Chandler could practically see smoke come out of her ears.

"What?" Chandler was shocked to his very core. He knew Monica was prone to jealousy, but he would never expect her to actually believe he'd been having an affair. He looked at her and watched as she obviously held back tears, probably refusing to let her vulnerability show in a moment of confrontation. "How can you even think something like that?"

"How can I not? This woman calls looking for you and leaves such a weird message, how else am I supposed to interpret this? Why would she call your home to tell you she's getting a divorce?"

"Monica…" Chandler walked towards her and tried to reach for her hand, but she backed away, almost running to the kitchen to stand there by the counter, her arms wrapped around her tiny body, as if she was trying to protect her feelings.

He sighed. _Well, I guess not everything comes from my doing_. He definitely didn't want to spoil that night with a fight, but since Wendy made him the favor of showing up that way, he had no choice.

He went after Monica, cornering her without intending to. He tried to hold her gaze before saying anything, but she refused to do so.

"What happened in Tulsa?" Her voice was weak; it looked as if she tried to put a lot of effort into not asking that question.

He reached for her again, and this time she allowed him to touch her. His fingers grazed her face then gently pulled her chin up, so that he could look at her in the eyes.

"Most of the time I ask myself why in the world I have someone like you as my wife. Why would I ever risk us like this?" She still looked unsure. "Monica, I would never cheat on you. You need to believe that."

"Maybe you wouldn't. But I know something happened while you were there, and I need you to tell me what it was."

 _Okay, no escape._

Chandler pulled her softly, guiding her to a chair. He sat at the one beside her, taking her hands into his.

"Okay, I need you to keep silent until I finish talking." Monica looked alarmed at that. It was funny how she claimed to know something happened, yet when he was about to tell her, she had that alarming expression on. "Can you do that?"

"I can." She probably didn't want to, but whatever. Chandler just needed her to listen.

"Okay. So…" He sighed. "Wendy made a pass on me."

Monica abruptly stood up, knocking her chair down, eyes wide and wild. Chandler just gave her a pointed look, and he could tell the flesh inside her mouth was being gravely abused as he could picture her teeth gnawing at it in an attempt at holding back profanities. He pulled the chair back up and made Monica sit again.

"But nothing happened, okay? I told her I was married and that nothing would ever happen between us." Monica stared at Chandler expectantly. "Okay, you can talk."

"Then why did she call to tell you she's getting a divorce? What was she thanking you for?" The man winced at the high decibels leaving his wife's lips, then he looked at her sheepishly. Monica was definitely not letting that one go. "Well?"

"Turns out she was married too, and she kept hitting on me even after I told her I was married so... I might've given her some pep talk? About quitting jobs you hate and getting divorces from spouses you don't love."

"What?"

This time, Monica was the one who looked at him like he was crazy. Chandler felt that electricity rushing back through his body just by remembering _that moment_ , that one moment when his decision of leaving everything behind had spoken louder than all his persistent fears.

"I told her I was happily married, and I told her all these things about you, and how you're so amazing," Monica's face actually softened a little. "And then she asked me why I was spending Christmas there with her when I had something so great back home. And, honey, that's when I understood everything!" He clasped his hands together, looking intently at her eyes for emphasis, excited about sharing with Monica his most recent epiphany.

Chandler kept walking around, frantically flailing his arms as he recounted his story, and Monica's eyes were following his manic behavior.

"That's when it hit me, Mon. I have a say in my life! I can choose! I could choose not being there and coming back to you if I wanted to." He sit back down. "And I wanted to. Just like the moment I chose to come back through this door when we returned from London. Or when I decided I was ready to propose. I could choose. All that situation with Wendy was uncomfortable enough to make me know that I shouldn't be there. I belong here with you, and if I had to sacrifice anything, it should be for a career that I actually care about."

Monica was once again biting the insides of her mouth, although Chandler could tell that, this time, it was undoubtedly to suppress a giggle. He would feel embarrassed about having his wife laugh at him right after baring his soul like that but, at the moment, he felt relieved. _I'd trade a mad-at-me-Monica for a laughing-at-me-Monica any day._

"I'm glad you think my new-found respect for life is amusing."

"No! It's just…"

"What?" He tried to sound annoyed, but it was playful enough to have Monica know he wasn't really upset.

"It's just that… you're really cute."

He grinned at that. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yes." She allowed herself to let out a chuckle, finally looking relaxed and pulling him into a soft kiss. "I believe you. And I'm glad that you're here, being the happiest unemployed person I've ever met."

His smile fell. "Oh, my God. I'm unemployed." Somehow he hadn't thought of the situation using _that_ word. Oh, was that panic making an appearance already?

"Okay, mister, time to go to bed!"

Monica just pulled him, leading them to the bedroom in order to kick panic out before it set up camp on her husband's head. Prior to entering the place, Chandler pulled her back, earning a questioning look. As she got closer, he rested his hands on her hips, leaning down to kiss her again. She sighed comfortably, instinctively wrapping her arms around his neck – as usual.

"You know I would never cheat on you, right?"

"I know." She smiled against his lips. "Hey, here's an idea." Her fingers started scratching the hair on his nape softly. "What if we go to Tulsa, just to visit Wendy and maybe thank her?"

Chandler stared at his wife. She was unbelievable. "You want to find Wendy and kick her ass, don't you?"

Monica's hand flew to her hips, a combative behavior taking over to the point where even Chandler got a little scared.

"Well, that's what she deserves for hitting on my husband!"

"Okay, honey, time to go to bed." Chandler pulled her into their bedroom, closing the door behind them.


	19. Chapter 19

_Mid 2003_

She didn't want to go to the fertility clinic in the first place, but she had to remain calm so that she could calm her husband down. Monica had teased Chandler; she'd made fun of his taco bell story (allegedly at a Wendy's, he'd cried out) and she'd also made a little fun of his paranoia to make it go away. While Chandler worried about being videotaped, she had to reaffirm him that things would be fine and those were just a few routine test.

She was absolutely terrified though. She had been since the moment she'd made the appointment, and everything that had followed had been just as terrifying. She'd been utterly scared all day and the day before.

However, she couldn't let it show. She had always been the strong one, the one to hold everybody up when things went down, almost like a mother. She chuckled bitterly by herself – _I'm a mother to everyone but my own baby_. She urged the dark thoughts away though; she couldn't allow herself to feel like this.

"Are you worried about the results?", Chandler's question had come out of nowhere when they got home. Was he worried about the results too? If that was the case, she _had_ to do something to soothe his emotions.

"No, not really." She lied, but Chandler didn't look convinced. He pulled her into a hug.

"Honey, everything's gonna be okay." _Wait, is he trying to comfort me?_ She hadn't even said anything about being worried; she actually thought her calmness had looked convincing. Maybe not. Or maybe he just knew her too well to buy that.

She wasn't used to being taken care of, so she sure didn't know how to react. The only thing she knew though was that, triggered by his sweetness, she couldn't hide her despair any longer. Her attempt at appearing strong was officially over.

"What if it's not?" Monica's words were as firm as her grip onto his arms. That was her physical response to anxiety affecting Chandler's skin; he never complained about any bruises. "What if there's a reason why we couldn't get pregnant even though we've been trying to for a year?"

"Monica, even if there is a reason, we're going to figure it out." His grip on her waist got tighter and he pulled her closer against his chest. She rested her head there, letting out a breath she had been holding for two days. "We're going to have children, no matter what. We're meant to be parents. If anything, these tests will be helpful for us to go for more effective ways of doing it."

His hand was caressing her hair and she couldn't bring herself to say anything else. She wanted to believe his words and just enjoy the warmth coming from his body. He had always been able to calm her down, and Monica was one hundred percent ready to take advantage of that. She needed to.

As if he could read her mind (as he usually almost did in situations like this), Chandler didn't ask her to say anything else; he just hugged her more closely, kissing her forehead, being the protection she silently longed for.

"Look, honey, I know you feel like you have to hold everything up, but you don't." His voice invaded her ears like a knife. "This is about us. You can share your burdens with me, just like I share mine with you." She didn't dare to look up at him because she felt like crying already. "We're in this together."

She said a muffled "thanks", burying her head against his chest, and she could feel his body vibrating with a soft chuckle.

* * *

It had been a few days since they'd done the tests, and Monica was grasping anything that could keep her mind off it. Waiting for the phone call with the results had been too unnerving. She tried to remember how comfortable she'd felt in Chandler's arms that day, tried to dive into his unexpected display of confidence that everything would be okay, but the more she waited for it, the more worried she was about hearing the results.

She had been using pretty much anything to fill her mind with non-baby-or-fertility things. Phoebe and Rachel and their little battle over massage chains and principles? Yes, please. Ross, Joey and Charlie's love triangle? Sure, hand it over. She had been there for her friends, as usual, giving advice and being the reasonable one, as she had always been. That's what she did – and that's what she did even more devotedly when she wanted to be away from her own problems.

Since the day they had come back from the clinic, Chandler's words had planted deep roots inside her brain, and she had been hanging on to them every time the phone rang.

No matter what, they would be fine – that was her private mantra.

That week, she'd spent a lot of time out, going here and there, doing her best not to stay home, so that she could avoid overthinking everything. One day, when she entered her apartment, she was met with a serious Chandler who didn't waste a minute telling her that Dr. Connelly had just called.

It couldn't possibly be good news – not when Chandler looked like that and used that tone.

She was already steeling herself, repeating her little mantra ("we'll be okay, we'll be okay, we'll be okay") over and over again but, in reality, she didn't want to fight to be okay. She didn't want to be okay in the future. She wanted to be okay _now_. She felt like they deserved to hear good news. However, as it had occurred much too often in the past, things didn't happen the way she wanted them to.

 _Definitely not this time_ , she concluded, when Chandler finally said the words she'd been dreading. She had been trying to anticipate all kinds of situations – what she would do if the problem were with her, or how to help comfort her husband if it were with him. Turns out the sick, twisted joke was that they both had a problem, and combined, no matter how hard they tried, getting pregnant would be like some far-fetched dream.

Really. They didn't deserve that, did they? They were trying so hard to make it right. They were trying to bring a baby into this world with love and support. Why them, of all people? Why were they the ones who couldn't make it happen?

"Oh, my God…" Came from her voice as she was already in tears.

"I'm sorry." Chandler added. He _looked_ sorry, and she could understand how he felt because, God, she was definitely feeling sorry too.

She acknowledged that out loud, looking for the warmth of his body to envelop her and make things okay – or bearable, at the very least.

"Well… We're gonna figure this out." She could hear him say, and she could swear it sounded more like an announcement to himself than to her.

"I know," she replied, feeling pretty much the same.

"We're gonna see Dr. Connelly tomorrow, first thing in the morning." Chandler pulled back to look at her. She closed her eyes when one of his hands touched her cheek, smearing her face with the tears that were still falling. "Then, we'll talk about our options, okay?" She nodded, still unable to form full sentences.

Then, he leaned down to kiss her. All the emotions going through their bodies were too much. Monica could tell by the way his hands were shaking – despite his steady voice – that he was scared too. She returned his kiss, her fingers clawing onto his back for dear life. She wanted to let all the sorrow out until she could feel in control of herself again – at the moment, she just felt like everything was falling apart while she was powerless.

When they'd stopped the kiss, a little out of breath, she could see his eyes looked watery. She admired his strength, because her eyes were unabashed waterfalls.

Both his hands were back on her face, his thumbs wiping her tears away – unsuccessfully, as they kept coming. She could tell she would cry a lot that night. Chandler didn't look anywhere near giving up on making her feel a little better.

"We're meant to be parents, okay? We're going to do it. And when it happens, we'll look back at all this and be proud of our babies, because we really fought for them."

"Plural?", she let out a watery laugh. She couldn't believe Chandler's optimism. _Chandler_ , being an optimistic. That's not something you see every day.

"Yes, plural." He grinned at her, hands still cradling her face. "We're going to have a big family. Maybe we'll go through some medical procedure. Maybe we'll adopt, I don't know. It doesn't matter how we're going to manage that; we're going to have that opportunity."

"Okay," she answered, half-ironically, half-hopefully, a little bit resignedly too. She tried to rest her head back on his chest, but he kept her from doing it. He looked firmly into her eyes.

"Do you believe me?"

She was taken aback by how serious he sounded. In fact, he sounded so serious that, as depressed as she felt, she couldn't _not_ believe him. It was like he had a mission, and would do anything to make that happen, and that by itself made hope crawl back inside her brain.

"I do."

He mumbled something that sounded like "good" before placing her head back against his chest.

* * *

That night she didn't do anything because Chandler didn't allow her to. He had talked to their friends, telling them about the situation and asking them to give the couple a little privacy, and he also had attempted at cooking a meal for dinner – which was quite tasteful too; sure, he wasn't a chef, but his cooking was definitely decent. He had put her to bed as well, ignoring all her whining – she didn't like being treated like she was fragile. She could handle all her emotional problems by herself, thank you very much. But, the truth was, he'd had those adoring eyes on, and he'd looked more like a devoted husband celebrating an anniversary than someone who had been looking down on her. That had made her cave, so she let herself be put to bed after dinner while he offered to do the dishes too. He'd even promised to arrange all the plates and cups according to their numbers.

She was being taken care of. She couldn't remember a moment in her life when she'd been taken care of like that. It felt too new and weird for her, and her natural instincts fought against it – she couldn't relinquish control, not even when she was breaking down. The fact that now she had someone who was willing to gather all her pieces together was a little unsettling. What if someone else gluing the pieces together disarrayed her system? She needed order even in the process of falling apart and getting her shit together. For some reason, she felt like the guy washing the dishes had been familiar with her orderly fashion for way too long; maybe she could trust him with the task.

Monica rested her emotionally drained body in bed. She was still feeling terrible. She reprimanded herself for ever believing she could just have a baby if she wanted to. Of course she couldn't. It was as if she'd been guilty of having hope. As much as she wanted to dive into those deplorable thoughts and claim Bitter Town, Chandler's words were contagious – they kept replaying inside her brain, forcing her to abandon the sinking ship with all the sadness.

"Okay, done. Cups number 18 and 19 are lined up together with plates 14 and 15, and they're all squeaky clean." He closed the door behind him. "I'm actually intrigued by the fact that none of our cutlery has numbers yet."

"Shut up and come here." Monica demanded, ignoring his teasing about her organizational skills – especially because she'd been trying, to no avail, to figure out a way of numbering the cutlery too.

Chandler took off his clothes and climbed onto bed, taking his spot next to her, his arms protectively wrapping around his wife's slender body.

They were silent for what felt like forever; Monica couldn't really pinpoint how much time had passed. She was almost falling asleep when she felt his body shift a little behind her, before his voice came out.

"Mon."

"Hmm?"

"Listen, it's gonna be…"

"I know." She knew.

Faith: restored.


	20. Chapter 20

_Mid 2004_

Chandler felt a little wistful. He had just left apartment 19 after hugging his best friend goodbye, which had happened as the closing scene to the rescue of Chick Jr. and Duck Jr. from inside the foosball table – they had to (watch Monica) destroy it to get the animals out of there. It had almost felt like a moment from a season finale of some dramatic TV show in which all the symbolism that held the characters together was being torn apart so that they could move on.

He stopped halfway through his walking to his own apartment, standing in the hallway for a moment. He literally stood steps away between the two most important people in his life. It had been Joey and Monica who had proved that, just like everybody else, he deserved and could find love.

Behind the door by his right was Joey. He'd been cherished by the Italian man for over ten years – he knew that if he got any closer to the door and strained his ears, he would probably hear the actor bawling his eyes out. Taking care of Joey had become a natural instinct, and, truthfully he was a little skittish about leaving his side; he couldn't help worrying about the guy.

Behind the other door was Monica. He'd met her the year he'd met Ross and some years before he'd met Joey. She'd literally been his second friend ever, and they had remained best friends ever since – he didn't feel like he needed to take care of her, it was usually the other way around, even though secretly Chandler had always done his best to make her feel good and protected. It was absolutely insane that that lost teenage girl he had met over 15 years ago was now his wife, the mother of his children.

Oh, yeah. Children. He was a father now.

That was crazy.

He had never imagined his life to turn out like that. Although he had always suffered with his constant fear of commitment, self-esteem issues, anxiety and self-loathing, the tiny freckle of hope inside his mind had made him believe in an upcoming good future; a normal future, mediocre even, one would say. He'd never wished for anything spectacular – he'd expected to keep his group of friends and eventually to find a woman crazy enough to love him for real, maybe have one or two kids someday. What would happen to the group once that happened, he had no idea – he didn't even have answers to basic questions like "where would everybody live?" Maybe living in that building, barging into each other's rooms could be something that lasted forever. Deep down he knew, though, that, eventually, they would have to part ways; Chandler just never really put much thought into that. _If I do find that crazy woman to love me, it will be more than enough and I'll handle anything that happens,_ he used to think.

Then he got Monica. He could say she was crazy enough to love him, but he'd prefer to count himself as lucky instead. She wasn't crazy at all. She was perfectly fine – more than fine, she was perfect (even when she wasn't perfect). Their relationship had gotten strong to the point where the future part – the part with the marrying and the moving out and the babies – became more and more close to reality. Even before marriage, he'd realized he would have been fine about having four kids and raising them in a small place outside the city. Not long after the wedding, he'd realized he'd been, in fact, ready to start that family. And they had tried to get pregnant, unsuccessfully. Finding out that they both had fertility problems was like life reminding him that no matter how much you try to predict the future, there's no way to know for sure. One would have thought he'd learned the lesson, but turns out that: nope. They had bought the house and had given Erica a little New York tour, all while having intact plans about the baby and the moving out. The only uncertainty posed itself as the sex of the baby, something they were fine about not being able to predict – turns out such an information was almost irrelevant when, while giving birth, Erica found out, together with Chandler and Monica, that she'd been pregnant with twins. Instead of one biological baby, they had now two adopted ones. He had a wife and two babies. He had a house in the suburbs too. He'd said goodbye to one of his biggest friends, who would be soon flying to Paris – well, if Ross didn't manage to bring her back, but Chandler had no idea how that one would go. He would officially move out of his other three friends' everyday lives the next day. His head was spinning as he realized that all of that was going on for real in his life. Everything was just too much.

He entered apartment 20, and saw Monica staring at the babies. He smiled at the sight – she looked adorable in piggy tails.

"Hey, honey. Where's Joey? Isn't he going to help finish packing?", Monica asked as she noticed her husband standing by the door. "Chandler, what's going on?"

By the worried look on her face, Chandler assumed he must be looking like hell.

"Nothing. It's just that… um, I guess I've officially hugged my best friend goodbye."

"Oh, honey, come here." Monica got close to him, pulling him into a hug. He smelled the delicious scent coming from her hair as he buried his face into the crook of her neck. "I know how you feel."

He knew she did, and Chandler knew that, for her, it was even worse. After all, Rachel was going to a different continent while he could visit Joey whenever he wanted to. He felt like she was probably trying not to point that out in order to be supportive of his feelings, so he didn't add anything to it.

"I'll be fine, it's just that… a lot is changing."

"I know." She looked at him, placing her hand over his cheek. "Well, you know what can help you feel better?"

He sighed. "Packing?"

"That's right, baby!" And she shoved scotch tape onto his chest. "I assume Joey is having a little moment by himself?"

"Yea, he'll probably come around in a while. Man, I feel like we're crybabies. I miss having no soul."

"Well, I don't. Even though it's not the greatest thing in the world to watch my husband cry at TV commercials," she gave him a reprimanding look "now I know I won't have to come back from the beyond to hunt you out of spite. You know that's what I'd do if I died from a long illness and my husband didn't shed a single tear."

"Well, the gate is open, now I can't stop the crying anymore," he pointed a defensive finger at her "And sometimes those advertising wizards create some touching pieces of art, okay?"

Monica rolled her eyes.

"Speaking of Joey, I left him the poultry."

Monica looked at him, incredulously happy. "Really?"

It was his time to roll his eyes. "I know you hate the birds, but you don't have to look so happy."

"I don't hate them! I just don't think they're suited to be around babies or… people with allergies, like me."

"Anyway, I figured it would be nice for Joey to have them around since he's probably going to spend a lot of time alone." Chandler gulped at that. "Plus, you were right. It would probably be too dangerous to have bird feces around babies."

"Aww, look at you, putting your kids first!" Monica teased but Chandler could sense the happiness in her tone.

They kept working on packing. There wasn't much left, so Chandler was less devoted to the task by now. He saw the bassinet there, in the middle of the apartment, and got closer every now and then just to steal a few glances at the babies. His children. That was unbelievable. He had two kids, what was going on with the world? He grabbed a chair, placing it next to the crib so that he could sit there and watch the tiny little movements coming from the eight little limbs. Little bunnies, Monica had called them earlier, and sure they looked just like that. After Monica had failed to recognize who was who, she'd decided to change them into different colors. Chandler took the time to stare at them both, drinking into every detail, committing them to memory. He'd joked before, but he sure didn't want to mix his children up. He stared at Jack, who had his eyes closed, brows furrowed, tiny lips formed into a pout. He looked like he was dreaming – was that something already possible for babies? Chandler had no clue, but that's what it looked like. He reached out to the boy's covered little tummy, his index finger gently tickling it. He smiled at how adorable his oldest son was. Being a baby looked peaceful. Soon they would grow up and experience the horror of conscience and the constant pain of existence – for the time being, they could eat, burp, poop and sleep all day long. Chandler was almost jealous.

His eyes moved to the baby's little sister. Erica looked more peaceful than her brother; her tiny lips didn't end with a pout and her eyebrows looked relaxed. She was so beautiful. Chandler already regretted considering the possibility of not bringing her home. He suddenly felt guilty at the realization of what he'd suggested to Monica at the hospital. It was truly despicable, and he knew he couldn't blame it on panic. Good thing Monica had spoken, and by listening to her words he'd realized the truth: these were their children indeed, and they should never be separated.

He felt the familiar, soft fingertips he loved so much graze his neck, sending a mild shiver over his body and bringing him back to reality. A warm hand also landed on his shoulder, and he looked up to see his wife standing by his side.

"They're adorable, aren't they?" She said, affection flooding her eyes.

"They totally are." Chandler smiled in agreement.

Monica took another chair and put it next to her husband, sitting there – it seemed that taking a break from packing to stare at their children was an acceptable thing to do.

Erica shifted a little in her position, opening her eyes. Chandler and Monica almost awww'd in unison. He reached out for the baby, taking her tiny body into his arms, bouncing her softly to soothe her back to sleep. The guilt felt more poignant – he almost felt like crying right there. It didn't look like it because above all he was completely mesmerized by the brand new human being resting in the crook of his arm.

The woman by his side stared at her husband holding her daughter with a mischievous smile; when Chandler noticed her gaze on him, he stared back, assuming he knew why she had that grin on.

"I know what you're thinking."

"You do?" Monica acted surprised.

"You're thinking about my outburst at the hospital, aren't you?"

"I might be thinking about that."

"I'm so sorry. You have every reason to think I'm an asshole."

"What? No!"

"You said you were thinking about that."

"Yeah, but not on those terms. I don't think you were an asshole. I just think you were scared to death and, honey, I was too. I just happen to know the right thing to do more often than you do," she smirked, earning a good rolling of eyes from him.

"If you don't think I'm an asshole, well, I do. Look at her," his eyes moved down to the life he was holding "I almost didn't bring her home because I was too selfish to think about anything other than myself."

"No, honey, you almost didn't bring her home because you were freaking out. It took us a long time to know we were ready for this, and then we couldn't make it happen and then it finally did. We had our heads wrapped around the fact that it would be difficult enough to have one. I'm sure having two at once wouldn't be anyone's expectations."

"You're right."

"Of course I am."

"Okay then, if you were thinking about the hospital but you're not considering throwing the man you've married out, what is it?"

"It's just that, and I've noticed it since the hospital, she can totally twist you around her little finger already."

"I guess she can. She's just so perfect."

"I was…" Her tone changed a little, perking his attention. "I was scared that you'd resent me for making you take them both."

"What? Why would I do that?"

"Because! You really freaked me out when you started talking about splitting them up."

"Ugh, I'm such an idiot."

"It's okay, honey," she laughed, kissing him on the cheek, then craning his neck a little to give him a peck on the lips. "I'm just glad you're so in love with both our kids."

"Who would've thought though, huh? She's not even a day old yet and I feel like she already rules my world. Am I going to be one of those overprotective dads?"

"Probably. And I'll be the cool mom who will help her fool you from time to time so that she can go on a date."

"Do you really have to mention dating already? I'm not ready to think about my children dating," he said that as he placed the fast asleep Erica back into her crib.

Monica was the one misty-eyed now as they stood up, and Chandler chuckled, pulling her into a hug, kissing her softly on the lips.

"What?"

"I know it's a weird moment to say that because I'm sad about Rachel leaving, and about not seeing everybody every day but, truthfully…" She sighed "I'm very happy."

"I feel pretty much the same way," he replied, looking for her lips again as her hands met behind his neck.

"Also, it's amazing seeing you not freak out. Can I consider that part done?"

"Honey, don't you know me by now? Of course I'm gonna freak out. I'm gonna freak out _a lot_. In fact, I think we should have a storage room in our house for sports drinks only because I'm sure I'll be needing lots of those."

She shook her head laughing, which made him laugh too.

There was a wonderful, scary, terrifying, exhilarating, new life waiting for them, and he was one hundred percent ready for it.

* * *

 _ **Author's note: I guess that's it haha I'll probably add an epilogue anytime soon (maybe not too soon because I'm very busy ahvfdks) but officially, that's it.**_

 _ **Thank yooou so much, a huge thank you to everybody who've been reviewing this. It encouraged me a lot! You guys are very sweet and amazing :)**_


	21. Chapter 21

_Mid 2005_

"I just got off the phone with Ross", Chandler said as he entered their living room. Monica was on the ground, re-dressing Jack who seemed to be a little too excited to keep his little hat on.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah, he's on his way with Rachel and Emma. Also, I guess he decided that beating around the bush wasn't the way to go, so he just flatly told me he's going to leave a little early."

Monica rolled her eyes. "Rachel called me yesterday for no apparent reason. I bet that's what she wanted to tell me."

Chandler laughed a little, sitting on the ground and crossing his legs in front of his wife and children. Erica crawled onto his lap, cutely slapping his thigh. "Well, I guess we could cut them some slack. It is their anniversary."

"Well, we also had an anniversary on Emma's birthday!"

They did, but no one knew about their anniversaries. It wasn't anything like a first kiss or a first time sleeping together. It was about the moment they had become exclusive, and the trip to Vermont had sounded like a good idea when combined with the special date. Monica and Chandler were actually quite romantic in their own weird and private way – they had many celebrations that nobody knew about. They wouldn't always celebrate them – busy schedules and raising twins didn't allow them to have that much time. Having passionate sex and deep, meaningful conversations until they fell asleep was often their choice for special occasions.

"Yeah, we did, but it's not like we had broken up while still loving each other and only reunited the day you were about to leave the country. Not to mention having a daughter out of wedlock in-between."

Monica chuckled, then seemed to realize something unpleasant. "Do you think Ross is going to tell the Rachel-got-off-the-plane story again?"

"Do you not know your brother? I'm one hundred percent certain he will."

"Ugh. I swear to God, if he does, they will leave a lot earlier."

That's another thing that differed a lot between the two couples. Monica and Chandler had been through a good amount of sweet, life-changing moments, but just like their special occasions, not many people knew about them. In fact, most people didn't know the big stuff that had happened between them, especially the ones that took place while they'd been sneaking around. Monica could remember the dictionary definition moment, or that one time when Chandler had told her he was the best sex she'd ever had only because she had made him the best. She could also think about the hot couple contest, when he'd told her that dating her was more exciting than having sex all the time. The engagement night too, and also their talking about the future when they had been engaged for only a week. All those moments were private memories. None of their friends had any idea about these – Monica had only casually told the girls about one thing or two from these events, but, in general, the big moments were something they'd always preferred to keep to themselves. That was completely different from Ross and Rachel's relationship. Everyone had heard the Rachel-getting-off-the-plane story nearly a thousand times, with the eventual overtly emotional narrative – Ross would tear up sometimes, flailing his hands around and gasping a lot to depict the intensity of the emotions he'd been through. God knew how often Monica would feel a little annoyed at the fact that everybody seemed to take Ross and Rachel's story as the epitome of a romantic tale. She had gotten over feeling bitter about it though – now she just (secretly) found her brother's overdramatic storytelling cute, and was happy that what she shared with Chandler belonged to them only.

The couple sat in silence, watching the one-year-old babies crawl around while making the cutest noises in the world – those noises filled Chandler and Monica's hearts with joy in a way they could have never expected.

"Can you believe we've been parents for a year?", Monica wondered out loud, putting into words the question that had already been hanging onto Chandler's mouth since the minute he'd waken up that day.

"I know. And we're parents of the best babies in the world."

"We're so lucky."

"We sure are."

The house was fully decorated for the birthday party – after all, their children would only turn one once. That's something Rachel had said about Emma and they couldn't understand at the time, but now they totally did.

The gang had been a little apart when compared to how close they used to be. Joey had moved to Los Angeles, after being offered the greatest acting opportunity ever – he was now completely able to support himself, with no worries, for a long time. Chandler had calmed himself down about leaving his friend behind when he'd learned about the moving, even though he still missed Joey the most. The actor promised to arrive at their house on time for the party, and had called already to inform them he was on his way – on a private plane, apparently. Chandler and Monica still had a hard time digesting their friend's recent wealthy status.

Phoebe proved to be indeed super fertile – as if getting pregnant of triplets in a complicated medical procedure wasn't proof enough. She'd suggested having kids the moment she'd seen the twins for the first time, and Mike had seemed to get on board with the idea. Not long after the birth of Jack and Erica, Phoebe had announced her pregnancy. Little Sophie was two months old, and together with her mother and father, she was about to attend a birthday party for the first time in her short life.

The most complicated situation of their friends' lives had been, of course, Ross and Rachel's. As much as Monica wanted them to finally be together, she would never, not in a million years, be okay with the idea of Rachel giving up her dream job for Ross. Because of that, Monica had been the happiest one when finding out that Rachel getting off that plane hadn't meant giving up a career – her best friend just needed to straighten things out with the love of her life before she left the country. That very same day, she had contacted Louis Vuitton, claiming to having had some serious family emergency and booking a trip for the following week. She had finally flown to Paris then, and with the advent of technology – and the fact that the company had been _really_ willing to do anything to have her –, she'd been able to talk to Ross every day. Everybody had kind of expected everything to go to hell – the first time Rachel had put her career first had been the moment their relationship had crumbled. This time though, they'd had an intervention from Chandler and Monica. Having had the experience of dealing with a long distance relationship because of work issues had made the couple very good at giving advices in that area – despite the stress and compromised time from raising two kids, they would go out of their ways to keep Ross grounded whenever he wanted to let his selfish urges out. Luckily, they had only had to deal with that problem for about six months – that's how long it had taken for Rachel to come back for good, being able to work for the company from New York. The internet, oh yeah, that had come to stay and had definitely been a blessing for those two. They lived together and had a daughter but weren't married yet. As dumb as that sounded to everybody, Monica and Chandler rejoiced in the fact that at least they were engaged. This time, it seemed like everything was in its right place, and there was no breaking up for them in sight.

Besides friends, family members were coming to the party too, such as the Gellers.

Jack and Judy had been fine, but some specific doctor's appointments seemed to make Monica and Ross aware of the fact that having to deal with the death of a parent was something more tangible now that it had ever been before – it was crazy how not even having children had been such a wakeup call about the fact that they were getting older.

Losing a parent, that thought didn't haunt Chandler that much. Instead, he had been dealing with the fact that Nora and Charles had been actually trying to be an integral part of his life. He had been responsible for pushing his parents away, sure, but they had never been that much invested in getting close to him. Proof of that was the wedding – they had both been invited, but after the special day, they had still been distant, even though Chandler had opened the door that could bring them back to his daily life. The turning point had been the moment they'd met their grandchildren – only then, real magic happened. They were now able to be around each other with no bantering or yelling or snickering because all their energy was directed at the babies. Chandler kind of saw that behavior as an attempt of doing right this time – they were putting a lot of effort into being the best grandparents in the world because they wanted to make up for having been terrible parents to their only child. One might have expected Chandler to be bitter about it, but he was actually more than okay with that. Being a father had changed him – if anything, he wanted his children to have everything he'd been deprived of.

The writer and the drag queen would probably arrive soon.

They could watch their kids play with each other all day long – their cute little clothes were already getting wrinkled but Monica had learned, painfully, that being a mother meant not being able to avoid wrinkles and stains. Chandler's hand reached for Monica's, and their fingers entwined on their own accord. He pulled her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. A blissful smile reigned over his face, which matched his wife's. They didn't need to say anything – as if they shared one mind, they knew exactly what the other one was thinking.

Things had never been easy for them. They had always had to deal with self-doubt and self-loathing, with heartbreak, with loneliness. They had always faced frustration while hoping that one day things would be at least bearable. They had been denied the things they'd wanted the most – and even after having what they'd longed for, things had never happened effortlessly. If you think about it, that's life in a nutshell – people are always struggling, dealing with problems that never seem to end. They counted themselves lucky though – as hard as everything had been, they were now exactly where they wanted to be, living what they wanted to live, being around the ones they loved the most. It had been a long road, but it had led to a wonderful place.


End file.
